To Melt A Frozen Heart
by Symphonic Madness
Summary: He was a hero. Not to himself, but to the Princess, her boyfriend, and the Queen of Arendelle. He impulsively saved Anna's life, and finds himself being repaid for his courage and sacrifice. But as his relationship with Elsa grows deeper, his life continues to change. The truths about his past are questioned. And he feels no remorse for any of it. Cover art done by escume on DA.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, everybody! This is my first Frozen fanfic, and I'm pretty excited to join this particular fandom. It's my first time writing for it, so go easy on me. I love the movie, and it's slowly but surely becoming an obsession of mine. Arendelle is my happy place. Don't judge. I probably know a lot more about the world of Frozen than would be considered healthy. But, all that fangirl obsession mumbo jumbo aside, I hope you enjoy my first Frozen fanfiction ever.**

**Yours Truly,**

**Symphonic Madness**

Deep within the rugged forests at the base of the North Mountain, just after the sun had descended below the horizon, a small trail of smoke could be seen gently flowing out of the chimney of a cottage. This cottage, which was nestled far into the densest part of the forest, only had one occupant; a young man with little interest in anything but anonymity, and with little desire to change his state of solitude.

Marcus gently stoked the logs as the infant blaze slowly grew in size within the hearth of the cottage. Sitting back on the floor and admiring his handiwork, he sighed. His stomach growled, and with a bit of reluctance, he stood up from his comfortable spot on the fur rug he was sitting on to search for something to eat. Seeing nothing that could be considered edible at the moment as he examined his small assortment of cured meats and jerky, Marcus groaned. He would have to go out and hunt tonight, and what little traps he made for himself wouldn't do much good to relieve Marcus of his present hunger.

He pulls on a hooded black cloak, sheathes his dual swords in his belt, throws his quiver of arrows and his bow over his shoulder, and douses the fire before heading into the night in search of food. He doesn't walk long; living solitary in the woods for as many years as he has, he knows the perfect spots to hide out and wait for his prey. Marcus finds his favorite pine tree, and he makes the climb up its surface just as he has a thousand times before.

In comfortable silence, he crouches in the cover of the tree. Ever so patiently, Marcus awaits what he knows is to come. The dull light that the sunset provided earlier has slowly diminished, and darkness has officially cloaked the forest and the stretch of countryside beyond it. The only thing aiding Marcus in seeing his surroundings is the thin slice of moon; hanging ever present and unmoving in the summer sky with only the stars for company.

Every night, even nights that don't require any business outside of the cabin, Marcus gazes at the moon and the miniscule twinkles of light surrounding it. Since he was a boy, Marcus has had a fascination with the night sky and what resides within it. He feels an even stronger connection to the moon now more than ever before. The moon it seems, like himself, is alone. As surrounded by stars and planets beyond as it may be, it still stands to attention brighter than anything else in the evening sky. _The only difference between the moon and I_, Marcus often thinks to himself, _is the fact that the moon probably feels a lot more loneliness than I do_.

The sounds of thumping hooves, rustling foliage, and jovial voices snap Marcus out of his thoughts. He looks behind him, and he sees a light in the distance from what he guesses is a lantern. Much to the disappointment of his nagging stomach, he decides to see what is happening. He hops from tree to tree in the direction of the noise. Once he reaches it, he hides in the cover of the pine tree he has landed on and watches the scene unfolding before him. A reindeer frantically glances from left to right in what Marcus could only assume is anxiety and fear. Riding atop the animal is a blonde-haired mountain of a man with a petite young woman curling into his broad chest. Any questions Marcus had about what the reindeer and its passengers could be so nervous about are answered almost as if on cue.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here, boys," a masculine voice says in a condescending tone.

The source of the mocking voice appears quickly after; only the culprit is not alone. Standing evenly on either side of him are four other masked men. All of them are wearing smirks and laughing in voices that are drenched in volatile intentions. Two men stand on either side of the man who originally spoke. Marcus counts five men, presumably bandits. All hold items that if used for the right purpose, could be lethal. It is clear that is the intention, and Marcus can't help but battle with himself on the issue of whether to step in and help the innocent travelers, or to let it happen and continue on with his hunting mission. Eventually, he agrees to continue watching the encounter, and if the bandits do any major harm to these people, he will get involved. If no real harm comes to these travelers, he will simply forget the whole thing happened, and get on with his life.

"L-leave u-us alone! By order of P-Princess A-Anna of Arendelle!" the female passenger on the reindeer says, trying and failing miserably to sound regal and assertive.

_The Princess? Damn, what idiotic reasoning could she and the mountain man have for being out here right now? Now I've got no choice but to help! God knows Queen Elsa would go ballistic if anything were to happen to her sister!_ Marcus ran his palm down his face and groaned internally as the conflict within himself started up again.

"Gentlemen, it appears we are in the presence of royalty," the ringleader of the gang says, his smirk only growing in size.

Marcus shudders. He knows that look. It reminds him of a cougar who wants to play with its food before indulging in it. It's a look that is drenched in the sort of lust and malice that could only be quenched by taking full advantage of a woman's innocence and reveling in the sick sexual thrill that comes from committing such a horrific act. Marcus knows all too well, though, that their intentions with this young woman and her companions don't stop there.

Suddenly, the lead bandit strides over to the reindeer and yanks the princess off of it by the braids of her hair. The mountain man dismounts quickly, and in his blind fury he barrels toward the man holding the princess captive. He is screaming her name at the top of his lungs as two of the other bandits advance towards him and pry him away, even though he didn't get close enough to do any real damage, much to his dismay.

"Filip, Ivan! Secure the animal and take whatever goods it might be hiding!" the ringleader barks, taking a knife out of his belt and pressing it to the princess's throat. "Kiev, Odin, hold the Ice Master still. We will take care of him later. For now, let's see what kinds of treasures the almighty Princess Anna of Arendelle could have in the confines of her skirts. Oh, and don't forget, my friends. It would be extremely rude of us to ignore our guest, and not let him join in the fun."

That was all Marcus needed to see.

Without a second thought, he jumps from his place in the tree and lands behind Princess Anna's captor. With a look of pure, uncensored rage, Marcus lands a blow to the ringleader's head with the butt of one of his swords. In an instant, the two bandits that were holding the reindeer advance towards Marcus, weapons in hand. One holds a battered, wooden club, and the other pulls out two daggers from his sleeves. The first to attack is the club-wielding imbecile. Marcus parries the attack easily, and with his twin swords he slices the weapon into two pieces, and lands a kick to his assailant's face. He's on the ground and out cold soon after.

But Marcus gets little more than a second to catch his breath before he is attacked again with two daggers. The assailant goes for Marcus's back, but he dodges the blow just enough for the blade to pierce the back of his thigh. He hardly notices as an adrenaline rush propels him forward to help fight the remaining scoundrels. The two that were holding the mountain man captive earlier were quickly incapacitated and knocked unconscious. Marcus takes a quick minute to breathe when he hears footsteps approaching. He knows instantly what the source of the noise is, and swiftly loads his bow, turns around, and fires the arrow right into the chest of the final attacker.

Marcus breathlessly takes in his surroundings; the only casualty being the ringleader of the group that he knows of, the terrified, yet awestruck faces of the people he just rescued, and the sound of his heart pounding furiously into his ears.

It's the last thing he takes notice of before the world around him goes black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everybody! I didn't expect this story to get as much positive feedback as it did, and even more shocking to me was how quickly it came. In short, thank you so much for the support. It means a lot, and I'll be sure to keep all of it in mind as I write this. Once we get further into the story, and our mysterious OC is described with more details about his appearance, I will happily welcome those of you who are artists to draw him. I have no artistic talent whatsoever outside of literature, music, and theater. And as much as I'd like to draw him myself, I can't. But that's where you, my ever loyal readers, come in. Marcus's physical appearance will be described quite a bit more in the coming chapters. So once you feel like you've got enough of a description of him, go for it. Draw the hell out of him. Or don't. It's your choice. I'd be humbled if you did, though. For those of you that actually read this lengthy Author's Note, I applaud and thank you.**

**So, without further ado, here is Chapter Two!**

**-Symphonic Madness**

**P.S. That last thought rhymed and I didn't even mean for it to. That makes me happy.**

* * *

"Are you sure Elsa will be okay with this?" Kristoff asks as he trudges next to Sven as they journey back to Arendelle.

"For the billionth time, Kristoff! Yes! I mean… she has to be. He saved our lives. I don't think Elsa would protest to having him at the palace. At least temporarily. He needs medical attention, and not just any rinky-dink doctor will do," Anna says, ever stubborn as she holds on to their savior to keep him securely on Sven's back.

Kristoff rolls his eyes, deciding to drop the subject. Talking Anna out of doing something when she's already set her mind to it, he's learned, is a lost cause. No matter the absurdity of the decision, Anna's anger is not a force one should take lightly. Kristoff would much rather be at the mercy of an emotionally unstable Snow Queen than fall victim to her enraged sister. That was something Kristoff and Elsa could both agree on. Despite being the petite, bubbly princess she was when he first met her, when angry, Anna had a way of turning into a force of nature an infinite number of times more deadly than her cryokinetic sister.

The trio is trying their best to make it back to the castle as quickly as possible, but it's difficult. Kristoff opted to go the remaining distance on foot so there wasn't too much weight on Sven's back. Anna chose to ride Sven while holding their cloaked hero steady. Thankfully, they were not too far away from the castle to begin with. After only a thirty minute walk, they reach the palace gates. The guards instantly recognize their princess, even in the darkness of the late hour, and let her and her companions pass through the gates before shutting them for the remainder of the night.

"Guards! This man is wounded and needs medical attention immediately! Also, fetch my sister. Tell her it is an emergency, and to meet me in the sitting room. It is of utmost importance that both tasks be completed quickly. Thank you," Anna barks with an authority she didn't know she had. "Kristoff, take Sven to the stables. I will see you in the morning if I don't see you before you go to bed."

"Goodnight, Anna. Update me soon on his condition," Kristoff says, giving her a peck on the lips.

Both of them knew full well who he was talking about, so nothing more needed to be said. Anna watches Kristoff leave with a wistful yet affectionate expression on her face. After reveling in the remaining tingling of her lips when Kristoff kissed her, she quickly donned a more serious attitude and marched into the castle.

As expected, Elsa was sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace in the location Anna specified, Elsa had an expression of mock annoyance as her sister entered the room and shut the door behind her.

"So what was so important that you had to disrupt my paperwork in the middle of the night?" Elsa asks with a raised eyebrow."

"Oh please, Elsa. You were braiding your hair for the night. In fact, I can still see the tie around your wrist. I know you better than that. And you should know better than to lie to me," Anna says with a smirk.

Elsa looks down at her knees and plays with her hands sheepishly, but then quickly regains her composure when she remembers the alarming nature of her sister's desire to see her. "So why did you want to see me? Is there something wrong?"

"Well… sort of. But not with me or Kristoff!" Anna says quickly, feeling the temperature of the room drop a few degrees. When it returns to normal again, Anna continues. "Kristoff and I were on our way back from seeing his troll family, and we sort of got ambushed by a group of thieves. But we were rescued before they could do any real harm to us. The man who saved us is gravely injured, and if it's okay with you, I'd like to keep him here until he recovers."

The room falls deathly silent, save for the crackling of the fire in the hearth. Anna looks pleadingly at the queen, silently urging her to hurry up and agree to what was just proposed. Elsa gives her a look of uncertainty, and Anna ramps up her begging look. If anyone who didn't know the royal sisters were to witness the encounter, they would be utterly baffled. Anna and Elsa can have a complete conversation just by looking at one another, and reading each other's facial expressions. In the year it has been since the Great Thaw, their bond has been repairing itself, and it is stronger than anyone would have guessed. Anna pleads with Elsa to let the mysterious stranger stay, and Elsa gives her reasons for her uncertainty.

Eventually, the queen sighs. "He did save your lives. We at least owe him a warm bed, even if it's only temporary. He may stay, but as soon as he gains consciousness, we are to confront him. We can't be sure if he can be trusted just yet. He hasn't given you his name yet, has he?"

"No. He passed out before Kristoff and I could ask him what it was, or even thank him," Anna says, looking defeated as she focuses her gaze on the floor.

"Very well. He is welcome to remain here, so long as he provides good enough reasoning for us to give him such permission," Elsa says. A small smile forms on her face. "Now come on. Let's go to bed. I bet you're exhausted after the day you've had."

The queen gets up off of the sofa, and offers her younger sister a hand. Anna takes it and shoots Elsa a grateful smile as she stands up. But as she turns to leave, Elsa grasps her hand and pulls her into a tight embrace.

"I'm so happy you're alright," she says into one of Anna's braids. "I don't know what I would've done if anything happened to you."

Anna is stunned at first; even after a year, she is still adjusting to the comforting physical exchanges she shares with her sister. But she snaps out of it quickly, and wraps her arms around Elsa with as much love and appreciation as she can possibly muster.

"I'm glad I'm alright, too," Anna says. Elsa pulls back and looks her in the eyes. "I'm gonna head up to bed. I love you, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Anna. Sweet dreams," Elsa says.

Elsa kisses Anna's forehead, and lets Anna go ahead of her. She takes a moment to douse the fire with her magic, and wonders briefly why the servants insisted on lighting it when the summer air provided more than enough warmth. Plus, the cold really never did bother her, anyway. She smiles to herself at the thought and begins the short trek to her room, opting to leave the sitting room doors open. Sometimes she thought that by leaving so many doors open around the palace, she was overcompensating for all the years she spent behind closed ones. None of the staff minded, though. They understood this quirk their young queen had, and for that she and her sister were both immensely grateful.

Keeping pleasant thoughts in mind, she arrived at her room and did her nightly rituals. The queen extinguished the candles with her magic and plunged the room into darkness. She crawled into bed and was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Fair warning. This is gonna be a long chapter. But it's an important one. So bear with me. Farewell for now, my lovelies!**

**-Symphonic Madness**

* * *

Fuzz. That's all Marcus could see. The world was spinning around him, and he was seeing double. He rubbed his eyes and his vision cleared. He couldn't tell where he was, but he knew he wasn't in his cottage anymore. Instead of wooden walls and collection of warm furs and pelts, there was a vanity, dressing screen, closet, and so many other items that belonged in a house of wealth and fortune more than they did the shack he called home. Making the realization that he was not, in fact, at home, he frantically scanned the room for clues as to his current location.

Marcus was just about to make a run for the door when it opened. In came a short, white-haired man with a briefcase. When the man notices Marcus, a warm smile graces his wrinkled face.

"You're awake! Wonderful!" the man exclaims happily as he makes his way towards Marcus. "I must let Her Majesty know! But first, let me do a quick checkup."

"Wait! Who are you? Nevermind. It doesn't matter. Just get away from me!" Marcus says, fearfully trying to scramble away from the room's newest occupant.

The man chuckles and shakes his head, much to Marcus's anger, and takes a seat on the bed. "Don't be afraid, son. But I can see why you would be. You're in a new place and most likely have no memory of how you got here. Let me introduce myself. I'm Doctor Thomas. I go by Thomas to my patients, though. I am the physician to the Arendelle royal family. Her Majesty Queen Elsa and Princess Anna have asked me to treat the injury you sustained a couple of days ago.

"In case you haven't figured it out, the men who attacked Princess Anna and Ice Master Kristoff did quite a bit of damage to your leg when you intervened. Your attacker managed to hit an artery in your leg when he stabbed you. You lost a lot of blood, which explains why you went unconscious," the man, Doctor Thomas, explains.

"So wait… how long was I out? And what do you mean the…" Marcus trails off as it all comes back to him.

_The princess… I saved her. She must have taken me back to… No. That couldn't be. I can't be in the Arendelle royal palace right now. If I'm here, and Princess Anna is here, then that means… The Queen. The Snow Queen of Arendelle… She's taken me in… _Marcus can't believe it. All the thoughts and realizations he's having are enough to make his head spin. He can only manage to say one word without being completely incoherent.

"Why…" it was barely above a whisper.

"You saved the princess's life, as well as the life of her significant other, and his reindeer companion," Doctor Thomas says simply as he examines Marcus. "You were injured in the process of doing so, and as such it was the Princess who felt indebted to you enough to allow you a place in the castle. I'm sure you have heard how close Princess Anna is with her majesty Queen Elsa, and as such, she felt indebted to you for saving her sister's life. Needless to say, the Ice Master that is smitten with Princess Anna is in your debt as well. In fact, once word gets out about the attack, and your courageous act of heroism, the entire kingdom will feel gratitude. I know I do."

Doctor Thomas continues the exam; making sure to check Marcus's stitches, much to his dismay. The doctor finishes, and packs his tools back into his briefcase. But Marcus stops him.

"How long was I out?" he asks.

"Two days. Now, if you could answer a question of mine, that'd be splendid."

"It depends on the question."

"I doubt you will find it to be unwarranted, if that's what you're assuming," Doctor Thomas raises an eyebrow and smiles.

"Go for it, then."

"What is your name, son? I like to know the names of my patients, if you don't mind," Doctor Thomas asks, the smile still on his face.

"Marcus," he says nervously. He clears his throat and speaks more clearly. "My name is Marcus, sir."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Marcus. But I am afraid I must get going. The queen gave strict orders that she and Princess Anna be told of your consciousness the instant it happens. They would like to talk with you, and ask some questions. I'm sure you have plenty of your own." Doctor Thomas chuckles and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"Your majesty," a voice calls from beyond the door to Elsa's study. "Doctor Thomas has alerted us that the injured man Princess Anna rescued is finally awake. How should I proceed?"

Elsa's head shoots up from her paperwork at the butler's announcement. "Tell Princess Anna to meet me here as soon as possible, with Ice Master Kristoff, if available. She and I will question this man ourselves, hear what he has to say, and proceed accordingly. Thank you, Kai. That will be all."

"You are most welcome, your majesty," Kai says, bowing even though he knows she can't see him.

It doesn't take long for Elsa's request to be passed on to Anna. Like a tornado, Anna bursts through the door of Elsa's office in the same whirlwind of energy and excitement the young princess is famous for. Kristoff follows her in soon after, shaking his head fondly.

"He's awake?!" Anna asks.

Elsa has to resist rolling her eyes, and instead goes with a small chuckle at her sister's enthusiasm. "Yes. He is."

Anna's eyes widen in pure joy and uncensored excitement, to which Elsa has to respond quickly and carefully to avoid the potential disaster this could turn into. "But I doubt he has been that way for long. So let's try to retain somewhat of a calm demeanor towards our guest, shall we? The last thing he needs is to be scared more than necessary."

Anna scoffs. "As if I'm scary."

Kristoff and Elsa share a look, and Anna sighs. "Fine. Lead the way, Queen Boring."

Elsa walks out of the room ahead of Anna and Kristoff. With a flick of her wrist, she sends a snowball back at Anna, hitting its intended target of the princess's face. Elsa doesn't look back, but Kristoff and Anna can tell she is smirking. Anna, in turn, becomes infuriated.

"Whoa, Feistypants! Let her be! You're picking a fight with the wrong person!" Kristoff says, holding Anna back as they continue to walk through the palace.

"I suggest you listen to him, Anna. He's got a point," Elsa says, still smirking. The queen dons a more serious expression, and pulls a pair of white gloves from the hidden pocket of her gown. "Now, let's calm ourselves. Too much energy and movement could give him a heart attack."

Elsa puts on her gloves and looks back at Anna, who is wearing an expression of pure sadness and hurt. Knowing her sister, the queen realizes Anna is upset about the gloves. She stops, putting her gloved hands on Anna's shoulders.

"Anna, I'm not trying to hide who I am anymore. I can promise you that," Elsa says, giving her sister a rueful yet sincere smile. "The gloves are just a precaution."

Anna sighs. "Okay. I'll try to calm down, and I'll be civil."

"Atta girl," Elsa says, continuing the journey in a fast-paced walk instead of the leisurely speed she'd been walking at earlier.

"But if I have to act like more of a monarch, you have to act like less of one!" Anna says, surprising both Elsa and Kristoff. "I'll show more grace if you show more humanity. Remember what Father said all those years ago about the qualities of a respectable leader. 'A kind heart and gentle soul are just as important to possess as authority and intelligence. A ruler cannot be respected without an even mix of both'."

Elsa was taken aback. "You were listening to that all those years ago?"

"Well, yeah," Anna says with a shrug. "I spent a lot more time than you might think sitting outside your door. That included listening in on your lessons from Father on the etiquette of a monarch."

Elsa doesn't have that much time to process this new information, though. They have arrived at the room where their mysterious savior is being treated. Elsa gestures for Anna and Kristoff to enter before her, and they walk through the door. Elsa takes a deep breath before doing the same, and closing the door behind her. It was as if all the talk of poised and grace flew out the window the second Anna entered the room.

Anna rushes over to the bedridden stranger's side, and sits beside him. She rambles on and on about how thankful she is, and after rolling her eyes affectionately, Elsa places a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Anna."

It's all Elsa has to say. Anna looks from the stranger to Elsa, and mumbles her apologies sheepishly before standing up to join Kristoff. It's then that a look of recognition forms on the man's face.

"You're…!"

"Princess Anna," Elsa finishes, approaching the stranger's bed, but not sitting on it. "The man standing beside her is Ice Master Kristoff. You have saved both of their lives, and we wanted to thank you for doing so, but in person."

"Wait… if that's Princess Anna and Master Kristoff, then who are you?" he asks.

"You don't get out much, do you?" Anna blurts.

"Anna!" Elsa chastises. "Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Elsa."

"You mean…?"

"Yes. I am Queen Elsa. But by all means, after your service to our family, I ask that you abandon the formalities while in private. Just Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff will do nicely when talking to us. I can't help but feel curious, though, as to what _your_ name is, sir."

"Oh! Uh… Marcus. My name is Marcus," the man says nervously.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Marcus," Elsa says with a small curtsy, which Anna mimics, and Kristoff takes as his cue to bow.

Marcus bows his head. "The pleasure is all mine, your majesty."

"Elsa. Please."

"Okay… Your… Err… Elsa."

Elsa offers Marcus a warm smile, and for the first time, she has a chance to look at him. His chocolate brown curls go down to his shoulders, and he has a trimmed mustache and goatee. His eyes remind Elsa of a summer storm; with so many shades of gray that it would probably take her an eternity if she were to count them all. From his place on the bed, one could tell he is somewhat tall, with a small amount of muscle. His strong hands look to be covered in callouses. Overall, Elsa makes the conclusion that he is quite handsome.

Shaking herself out of her improper thoughts about Marcus, she takes a nearby chair and moves it beside Marcus's bed. Elsa takes a seat, but before she can say anything more, she hears Anna gasp.

"Son of a… I can't believe I forgot! Olaf asked Kristoff and I to take him on a picnic this afternoon!" she says in a very un-princess-y way, slapping a palm to her forehead. "Would you like to come, Elsa? Sorry for not letting you know sooner but I completely forgot!"

"I've got some work to do today. But you go have fun. Be careful," Elsa says. "I love you."

"Love you, too!" Anna calls as she rushes out the door, dragging Kristoff with her.

When the door shuts, Elsa shakes her head, but quickly returns her attention to the task at hand: figuring out if this "Marcus" person is trustworthy.

"So, if I may ask, why did you choose to save my sister?" Elsa asks, taking on a queen-like demeanor she knows will get through to this stranger.

Marcus struggles to find the words, and the queen raises a suspicious eyebrow. "Do you need me to repeat myself?"

"No! No! Of course not. I'm just… Well… Honestly, I don't know why I decided to intervene when those scoundrels attacked the princess. I saw what was happening, and how they were looking at her, and I couldn't just sit by and watch," Marcus admits.

"And what did you think their intentions were, exactly?" Elsa asks in a calm, unwavering voice that sends a chill through Marcus.

He'd been there during what most people referred to as the Great Thaw. Marcus heard so many stories of how Arendelle's newly crowned queen had frozen the summer, and then thawed it when she learned the power love possessed. All across the land, people spoke of a beautiful queen whose power over ice and snow was as incredible to those who were witness to it as the queen herself. He'd been in utter disbelief to hear that it was no almighty spirit who had these incredible abilities, rather it was a young woman, whose beauty was said to be something to behold. This woman, who was currently sitting beside him as he laid in a bed in her castle, was perhaps the most powerful human being the world has ever seen. Yet, she seemed so gentle and kind. When he looked into her eyes, Marcus didn't see the ruthless, deadly queen he'd heard about. He instead saw a compassionate soul, who'd been through much more than her youth would allow people to think. She was beautiful. There was no doubt about that.

Elsa clears her throat, snapping Marcus out of his thoughts. He quickly remembers that he still hasn't finished explaining to Elsa why he saved her sister.

"I've done a lot of traveling over the years," Marcus says. "I've seen more than someone my age would care to see."

"And what age would that be?" Elsa interrupts.

"Twenty-three."

"Ah. I see. Well, continue. Sorry for the interruption."

"No need to apologize, Elsa. But anyway, I knew the looks those men were giving Princess Anna. It was like looking into the eyes of a beast who intends to play with its food before devouring it. I can't say exactly what they were planning to do once they got what they came for, but I can make a pretty good guess. And frankly, your majesty, with the grotesque and vile nature of those intentions, I doubt you want to know what they might be," Marcus says. "So, in short, I saw what was happening, and I took the actions I felt were necessary."

"You were correct in taking such actions," Elsa says, giving Marcus a warm smile. "Without you, I doubt I would have seen Anna or Kristoff again. For that, I can't thank you enough. Anna made the right choice in taking you into our home. Though I am curious as to what exactly you were doing out in the woods the night of the attack, I won't ask. I was taught that when you're given a blessing, you do not question it. You simply embrace it. We are in your debt, Marcus. You have saved my sister's life, and I cannot properly express my gratitude for your sacrifice and courage."

"Really, Queen Elsa, it was nothing. You are in no way indebted to me. I'm not worthy of such an honor," Marcus says.

"On the contrary, Marcus," Elsa says. "Arendelle owes you a great amount of gratitude. I, personally, owe you much more than you think. I'm sure you've heard what people say about Anna and me. I know they say that the bond between her and I is strong, and that we are very close, even after the thirteen years we spent separated from one another by a closed door," Elsa sighs and gazes shamefully at her hands at the painful memory. "I love her more than anything in this world. And between you and I, I'd gladly give up my place as queen for her. She is my saving grace, and my strength. She was almost taken from me. Almost. If you had not been there, she would have been. So I owe you a great deal of thanks for saving her. Please. If not for yourself, take my family and I up on our offer to repay the debt we owe you."

Marcus is speechless. He's never once had anyone open up to him as much as Queen Elsa did just then. Hell, he hasn't even been open with others. How could others be open with him? After thinking for a moment, Marcus sighs.

"What did you have in mind for how you could repay this 'debt'?" he asks.

"Anna and I would like to extend an invitation for you to reside in our palace for as long as you see fit," Elsa says, looking Marcus dead in the eyes. "You would be treated with the same respect as Anna, Kristoff, and myself, and would be allowed full access to the castle grounds. The privilege to attend any and all prestigious events such as balls and parties that Anna and I host will be extended to you as well. I recommend you accept the offer, Marcus. This is not something we do often. Plus, I think it would be in your best interest if you did stay for an extended period of time. It will take a little while for you to recover from the attacks, and our physicians are among the best in the kingdom."

"Very well," Marcus says. "I accept your offer, your majesty. I will stay. If not to mend my injuries, then to ease your guilt."

Marcus surprises himself at his words, but with the way Elsa is looking at him now, with an expression of pure appreciation and trust gracing her features, he can't help but be comforted that his choice to stay was the right one. Marcus gives her his first smile in what feels like an eternity, and she returns it.

Before anything more can be said, Doctor Thomas comes into the room with a large object tucked under his arm. He bows to Elsa, greeting her politely and asking her if she would give him some room to work, but telling her she was not obligated to leave. He set down what he was holding, and began work. Curious to see what the eccentric, old doctor was to do with Marcus, Elsa took her chair and moved it to a different location in the room. She sat down once more and watched the doctor with fascination and wonder.

Over the years, Elsa had seen this doctor perform countless medical treatments to herself and her family. Doctor Thomas helped Elsa's mother deliver both her and Anna. He knew both sisters, quite literally, since their birth. Elsa knew that Marcus was in good hands when she assigned Thomas to treat his injuries.

"Marcus, I need to flip you over so I can examine your leg. I'm going to count to three, and then I will turn you onto your stomach," Thomas says. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Marcus mutters bitterly.

Thomas slaps the back of his head, much to the surprise and amusement of Elsa. "I'd suggest you shut that trap of yours, young man, before I shut the damn thing for you."

Elsa can't help but laugh out loud at the old man's words. Elsa knows Thomas well enough that his foul language does not seem improper to her. In fact, to her and Anna, it helps them see Thomas more of a longtime friend than a doctor; something that the jovial old caretaker appreciates and loves about them.

"Okay, ready or not, here we go! One… Two… Three!"

With a surprised yelp of pain, Marcus is flipped over onto his stomach, and the blankets he was under are pulled back. He is wearing a white, sleeveless shirt as well as a pair of brown undershorts. White bandages can be seen wrapped around Marcus's left thigh, and poking out from beneath his shorts. Thomas lifts up the leg of the shorts and examines the wrappings underneath. Feeling satisfied with what he sees, he flips Marcus over once again, but this time he gives no warning when he does.

"The wound is healing nicely. The stitches seem to be holding up just fine, and I won't have to replace the bandages for another few hours," Thomas says proudly. "Until then, I have brought a crutch to help you walk, Marcus."

Thomas gives instructions on how to use the strange mechanism, and then bids Queen Elsa and Marcus farewell. He leaves, and Elsa stands. She walks over to Marcus and stands beside his bed.

"I believe it is time I get back to work," she says with a somewhat wistful expression on her face. "But dinner is in a couple of hours. I would like you to join us if you feel you can."

"I think I can manage that. Dinner would be great," Marcus says with a grin.

"Excellent. I'll have Kai, my royal advisor and head butler, fetch you when it's time," Elsa says. "I recommend you practice with the crutch. The palace staff have been notified to assist you when you request it. Beside your bed is a cord. If you need anything, just pull it, and someone will be in to help you shortly."

"Thank you, your… I mean… Elsa. For everything," Marcus says.

"Your thanks isn't necessary, though it is appreciated. I look forward to seeing you at dinner, Marcus," Elsa says.

And with that, she gracefully exits the room, and Marcus is left feeling bewildered at the events that have occurred in just the past few days. _It isn't that unpleasant_, he thinks to himself. _Maybe people aren't so bad._


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner that night approached a lot quicker than any of the palace inhabitants originally thought possible. As Elsa made her way from her study down to the private dining hall she, Anna, Kristoff, and even Olaf ate their meals in, she couldn't help but feel somewhat anxious. Marcus would be joining them, and Elsa was going through all the possible worst case scenarios in her mind as the time drew nearer.

As was tradition, the queen arrived to dinner after everyone else had. Anna and Kristoff stood from their chairs respectfully, and with some difficulty, Marcus did the same. Elsa noticed that he'd put on a clean shirt, dark green pants, and a pair of black boots. He looked like he'd cleaned himself up in preparation for this, much to the queen's surprise. The only indication of his leg injury is the crutch he is clinging tightly to for support.

As Elsa had requested, Marcus was seated at her left, with Anna at her right as usual, and Kristoff sitting to Anna's left. Olaf was typically seated at Elsa's left, but she didn't think the snowman would mind too much if his spot was moved one chair down. The queen sits down and her company follows suit. Conversation starts soon thereafter.

"Glad to see you could make it, Marcus," Elsa says. "Anna, where is Olaf? I thought you were on a picnic with him just a couple of hours ago."

"The picnic only lasted for an hour. When we came back, Olaf decided to take a nap before dinner. Chances are, he's still in his igloo," Anna says with a shrug.

"Wait… Who is Olaf?" Marcus asks.

As if on cue, the energetic snowman bounds into the room, greeting everyone with an excited hello. Elsa chances a look at Marcus. As everyone expected prior to Olaf's arrival, Marcus looks to be in complete shock, with a hint of fear in his facial expression as well.

"Uh… Elsa…" Marcus begins.

"Hi! I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!" the snowman says with a wide smile at the stranger sitting next to him.

"Hi…?"

"Marcus, this is Olaf. He's a snowman I built with my magic. Believe me when I say that I was surprised as you are to find he was actually alive. He's kept from melting with the cloud above him," Elsa says, gesturing to the cloud floating above Olaf's head.

"It's my own personal flurry!" Olaf exclaims joyfully. "Now, who might you be, and why haven't you hugged me yet?"

"Uh… I'm Marcus," he says nervously. When he sees the snowman's ever present grin, his original hesitation regarding showing affection to the snowman diminishes. "I suppose I do, in fact, owe you a hug."

Marcus is not used to showing physical affection to anyone. He is stunned into disbelief at how he went from that mindset to hugging a walking, talking snowman, and receiving a hug from said snowman in return. He doesn't mind at all, though. In fact, it's nice. He pulls away, and conversation in the dining room resumes as the first course of dinner is served.

It's then that Marcus realizes just how little he's eaten recently, and how delicious the food in front of him looks. He quickly scarfs down the clam chowder soup.

"I thought you might be hungry," Elsa says, looking at Marcus with a bemused smile on her face.

He looks around at the other occupants of the table, who look utterly baffled at his complete disregard for proper table etiquette. Elsa is the last one his eyes fall upon, and his face takes on a red hue. As the nature of his actions sink in, he looks at the queen with uncensored mortification written clearly on his face. She is smiling, and it makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

"I…" He can't finish voicing his semi-coherent thought, because it's then that Anna bursts out in a fit of laughter.

Soon, the rest of the people at the table follow suit. The first to join Anna in her laughter is Olaf, then Kristoff, and finally Elsa can't hold back her joyful giggles anymore, either. The queen's laughter dies down quickly, though, when she sees her guest's mortified look turn into one of pure horror.

"Marcus, I expected you to be famished after the crazy few days you've had," Elsa tells him, still grinning. "There is no need to feel embarrassed. If I went through the nightmare you did without anything to eat, I would likely be doing the same thing. By all means, eat to your heart's content. You probably need it."

Embarrassed didn't even begin to cover how Marcus is feeling at the current moment. But after hearing what Elsa had to say, and the rest of the table agreeing with and adding to the thought, he feels more reassured that his poor table manners were not that offensive. As a result, dinner continues without interruption.

The meal went better than Elsa could have hoped. Marcus entertained Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and herself with stories about his life as a lumberjack. He spoke fondly of a man who called himself Timber, and the misadventures they had together while Marcus had an apprenticeship under him. According to Marcus, Timber was his mentor, his "ass kicker" as he put it, and his closest, most trusted friend. At times during the night, Marcus had them all, Elsa included, in hysterical laughter. By the end of the meal, they were all wiping their eyes and clutching their sides.

Soon, Anna and Kristoff decided it was time to get some sleep. Olaf, who shared their feelings of exhaustion, followed the couple out of the room. That left Marcus alone with Elsa, and enough tension in the room to make both of them fairly uncomfortable. Or so Marcus thought. Elsa, on the other hand, was quite happy with how everything turned out.

When she noticed Marcus was feeling awkward, she regained his attention once again by clearing her throat.

"Would you like to walk with me, Marcus? After all that excitement, I don't think I'll be ready to sleep for a little while. Perhaps practicing on your crutch would do you some good, as well," Elsa says.

She stands and offers Marcus her hand, which he realizes is now gloveless. He takes it gratefully, and maneuvers the crutch under his arm while gripping Elsa's hand for balance. Her pale hand is cold, but it's not unpleasant. With that in mind, he doesn't realize that he has gained a sense of balance and no longer requires Elsa's hand, yet he holds it anyway. She looks at him curiously, and it dawns on him that he's been holding it a bit too long.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"You're forgiven," Elsa says. "Now come on. You need to familiarize yourself with this place if you are to call it home for now."

Much to Elsa's surprise, Marcus hobbles quickly ahead of her as they exit the dining room, and opens the door for her with his free hand. She raises an eyebrow at him, and another one of those small, bemused smiles passes over her features. He responds with a shrug, and closes the door once the queen passes through it.

"You are quite the storyteller," Elsa says as they begin their walk. "I'm impressed. Not even Kristoff's conversations with his reindeer, Sven, have made me laugh that hard."

"I heard that!" Kristoff's voice calls from somewhere in the castle.

Still keeping her eyes locked on what's in front of her, she shoots a small burst of ice from her fingers in the direction of Kristoff's voice. Marcus and Elsa then hear a loud yelp of pain, and Anna's snickering.

"Thanks, Elsa!" Anna calls, still laughing.

"Any time."

Marcus laughs and looks at the queen as she walks beside him. He can tell she is fighting a smirk, but failing miserably in her effort.

"I know what you're thinking," Elsa sighs, her mirthful expression becoming grim. "The Ice Queen is abusing her abilities."

"Now why would you assume that's what I'm thinking?" Marcus asks, turning to look at her as they walk. "I thought it was pretty entertaining to watch you zap Kristoff with your powers."

By then, they have reached the parlor, where countless paintings hang along the walls. He takes a seat on one of the cushioned benches to rest, and motions for Elsa to join him.

"Yes. I've heard the stories people tell. They speak of an all-powerful queen who is more sorceress than monarch; more spirit than human. They say she can freeze someone's heart with just a flick of her wrist, and call on a devastating blizzard at her whim. But the woman who took me into her home, treated my injuries, and nursed me back to health is not the same woman those people tell stories about. They are tall tales invented by those who do not know the queen well enough to deny truth to them.

"Yet, I have also heard stories of how this Ice Queen can love with an abandon unlike any other. She has the power to freeze a kingdom as well as to love beyond reasonable explanation. I've heard tales of a queen who is gentle, kind, and cares deeply about the people she rules over. I know stories that tell about a queen who is fierce in protecting those she holds close to her heart, even if it means shutting them out to protect them from her.

"But do you know what I see? I see an intelligent, graceful, compassionate, spunky young woman, who also happens to have power over ice and snow. I haven't been here long, and I'm not usually one to have much human interaction other than with Timber, but I am someone who can read people fairly well. Clairvoyant, I do believe is what they call it, if my English lessons as a kid were as fruitful as my family had hoped. Don't listen so much to what those exaggerating storytellers say about you. Only _you,_ my queen, can define who you are," Marcus says earnestly.

Elsa isn't the only one who is surprised by Marcus's heartfelt confession. _Too late to turn back now_, he thinks to himself. _You said it. You mean it. Show her that, damn it! She obviously needed to hear that!_ Marcus tries his best to show the truth in his statement on his face. He doesn't have to try hard, though. Elsa meets his gray eyes with her icy blue ones, and he is taken aback by the amount of trust he finds in them.

_You can trust him, yes. Just give him too much right now. Hans had a good enough mask to fool Anna and the rest of the kingdom, and look where that led us. Slow down, Elsa. He hasn't been here long. Be patient. He will reveal his true colors soon enough_, Elsa thinks to herself. She takes a deep breath, and puts on a sincere smile.

"Please trust that what I say is true. You obviously still have doubts about who you are and what people think of you. But Elsa, believe me when I say that your insecurity about yourself is not warranted. You doubt your own capability more than necessary. No reasonable justification can be given for these fears and insecurities because they are nonexistent," Marcus says.

"I do," Elsa breathes.

"What?"

"I believe you," she murmurs. "Thank you, Marcus."

"You're welcome, your majesty," he says.

"Elsa. Please just call me Elsa. After the talk we've had, I'm even less tolerant of the formalities between you and me. In private, at least," the queen says. "But I fear it is time for me to go to bed. As much as I'd like to stay up and talk some more, tomorrow is Monday. My obligations must resume. Goodnight, Marcus."

Elsa gets up to leave, but Marcus stops her by holding onto her hand and blushing when she turns to look at him. "Um… Elsa… I don't know the way to my room. Could you maybe take me back there before you go? I'd hate to ask this of you, but these servants kind of intimidate me."

She laughs. "Now why ever would that be? The staff is here to serve me, Anna, and anyone we choose to host within the castle walls. That includes Kristoff, and it also includes you."

"I just… I haven't been waited on this much before." He hates lying to her, but it is best for now that she remain unaware of his past.

Either the queen doesn't catch on, or she chooses to drop it. "Fair enough. I'll lead you to your room. But after that, I've really got to head to bed. If I take you back to your room, you have to let me go to sleep. Deal?"

"Deal. Thank you, Elsa."

She gives him her hand, and he takes it with a grateful smile. They get up, and Marcus rushes ahead of Elsa once again to hold open the door as best he can.

"Would you stop doing that?" Elsa chastises playfully. "You're injured. If anything, I should be opening doors for _you._ Not the other way around."

"I'm sorry, Queen Elsa, but I must decline to follow through with your command. I am a gentleman, after all," Marcus says with a smirk as they leave the room.

"Are you sure you want to deny the _Snow_ Queen of Arendelle her request?" Elsa asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Absolutely."

"You really aren't going to stop doing that sort of thing, are you?"

"Not in your lifetime, my queen."

She shoves his shoulder as they walk, and he stumbles, catching himself on a nearby wall before he can fall over. Elsa, quickly realizing her mistake, starts rambling her apologies with a terrified look on her face.

"Hey, it's fine. I probably had it coming anyway. Don't worry," Marcus says with a grin. "After all, I did deny the almighty Queen of Arendelle her request."

"True," Elsa says with a small laugh.

They continue their walk back to Marcus's room in playful banter. Soon enough, too soon, Marcus realizes, they reach it. There's one thing he needs to see before they part ways, though.

"Before you go, I have to ask something of you," he asks.

"It depends on what it is," Elsa says, crossing her arms over her chest in mock suspicion.

"Could you… Show me some of your magic? I know I've already seen you use it a little bit. But I've heard it's an amazing sight to see," Marcus asks, looking anxiously around to avoid eye contact with the queen in front of him.

Elsa sighs, smiling earnestly at him. "Marcus, look at me."

Hesitantly, he does as she asks, and finds so much compassion and understanding in her eyes that he has to blink a few times to make sure he's not imagining it. Wordlessly, she takes a couple of steps back, and raises her gloveless hands. Marcus swears she isn't even human at that moment. The moonlight shines through the windows of the corridor and illuminates the queen in a way that makes her look more like a goddess than a mortal woman. She raises pale hands, and from them bursts flurries of snow and ice that form the most intricate, spectacular patterns in the air above her. Marcus stands still, watching with uncensored awe and wonder at Elsa's display of power. For a moment, he can't believe it's even real. It's then that he realizes there is some truth behind the stories people tell about her. If nothing else, they are right about one thing. As wondrous and spectacular as her powers are, Queen Elsa of Arendelle herself is infinitely more breathtaking. Her hair, which was left in a simple braid over her shoulder, now billows with her dress in the small windstorm she has created around herself. When she finishes, and the winter wonderland melts around her, Marcus can't find the words. There is only one thing he can think to say at this moment, and it's so quiet that he's surprised Elsa hears it.

"Wow…"

"Thank you," she says with a small curtsy.

"You're welcome," he breathes. He quickly snaps out of his wonder. "I suppose I should let you get to bed. A deal is a deal, after all. And I'm not one to break such agreements. I had an amazing evening, Elsa. Thank you."

"Likewise, Marcus. Goodnight. Sleep well," Elsa says.

"Goodnight, Elsa. I will see you in the morning."

The queen smiles at him, and then begins her trek down the hallway, up the staircase, and to her chambers. But she doesn't get far beyond the hallway. Unbeknownst to her, Anna was watching the whole encounter from start to finish.

"So Marcus seems to have taken a shine to you!" the princess exclaims as she bursts out from behind a suit of armor by the staircase.

Elsa yelps in surprise and ends up falling on her butt. This sends Anna into a fit of uncontrolled, howling laughter. Elsa gets up, rubbing her now sore tailbone. She shoots a glare at Anna that would make a grown man cower in fear. However, it has the opposite effect on the princess, and she just laughs harder. Elsa groans in frustration.

"Don't you have an ice harvester to irritate?" Elsa snaps, but not without a hint of amusement at her sister's antics.

"Nope. Not since he opted to spend the night in the stables with Sven," Anna says with a shrug as her laughter dies down.

"Gee, I wonder why," Elsa mutters with a rueful smirk.

"I think I can make a pretty accurate guess in saying that it was probably the ice you shot at him that made him hesitant to sleep inside tonight," Anna says with a shrug. "Now spill it. I want to hear all about your walk with our new friend."

"Marcus?"

"No. Olaf. Come on, sis. You're supposed to be the smart one of the two of us," Anna says. What she says next surprises Elsa. "Can I spend the night in your room tonight?"

They'd spent the night in each other's rooms fairly often in the year it's been since the Great Thaw. The sisters must have tallied over a hundred by now. What difference would it make for Elsa to allow Anna to sleep in her room tonight?

"Of course you can, Anna," Elsa says with a fond smile. "Just please, for heaven's sake, don't have too much energy tonight. And you can't argue when Kai wakes me up early to begin the day tomorrow."

"Why would I?" Anna asks as she walks up the stairs with Elsa. The queen shoots her a deadpanned look. "Fine. I promise I won't complain."

Elsa continues to look at her with that same deadpanned expression, and Anna looks at the floor with guilt in her eyes. "… Much."

It was an empty promise and they both knew it. But Elsa decides to drop it for the time being. When they reach Elsa's chambers, Anna scampers off to her own room to grab some necessities for the night. Elsa shakes her head and walks through the door of her room, closing it behind her. She begins to undress behind the screen in her room; knowing full well that Anna could burst in at any moment and reveal the queen's current state of indecency to whomever could possibly be walking by the room. She's learned her lesson about changing while Anna is gathering her things for a sleepover. She's learned that lesson more times than she'd care to remind herself of.

Elsa remembers how the first time it happened, she had just removed her dress and was standing in her room stark naked except for the corset she was halfway finished with taking off when Anna walked in without knocking. Much to Elsa's embarrassment, Anna was spouting orders for chocolate to Kai, who had followed her into the room in an attempt to keep up with what the princess was saying. The poor butler was horrified at seeing his queen almost fully nude, and said queen could not contain her mortification and horror, either. The temperature in the room plunged to freezing temperatures instantly as the queen frantically scrambled to find something to cover herself with. The only good thing about that whole situation, Elsa thought, was that Anna managed to hold in her mad cackles of laughter until Kai left the room. Needless to say, Elsa was not too happy, and in turn made Anna sleep on the floor that night. Anna didn't even try to deny that seeing her sister and the innocent butler so mortified was well worth a night spent sleeping on the floor.

Elsa shakes her head and snaps herself out of the memory, chuckling at the absurdity of it all. While she was zoned out, she managed to put on a nightgown and begin redoing the braid in her hair. Anna bursts in a short time later, grinning widely at Elsa as she carries in her pillow and other necessities. She sets her things down and lights a few more candles in the room to provide a bit more light. Meanwhile, Elsa is mentally preparing herself for the onslaught of questions that she knows Anna is going to ask about her evening with Marcus. She sits down on her bed and begins playing with her hair. Anna takes a seat next to her and grins expectantly at her older sister. She opens her mouth to say something, but Elsa holds a hand up to silence her.

"I'm guessing you would like me to indulge you in what happened after dinner," Elsa says dryly.

"I'm afraid I do. You know me too well," Anna says with a sigh.

"Fine. He took me on a romantic walk and swept me off my feet. We danced the night away with no music, and shared a passionate kiss. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We plan on having the ceremony next month in the hills overlooking the kingdom, and eventually having a huge family and staying together in the castle, and living happily ever after," Elsa says in a fake lovey-dovey voice, batting her eyelashes, and clasping her hands together to further prove her point.

"Sarcasm. Wonderful," Anna says dryly.

"I couldn't agree more."

"Now, before my head explodes from all the mock-seriousness you seem to be full of, tell me what really happened on your walk with Marcus."

"Wait… you left before we even decided to go on a walk together. How did you know that's what we were doing?" Elsa asks, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"You just told me," Anna says with a victorious smirk.

"Uh huh. Something tells me you're hiding something. And I know just how to get you to release that information."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I beg to differ."

Before Anna can escape, Elsa tackles her onto the bed and traps her sister's stomach between her legs. She gives Anna a look with so much mischief that it sends chills down her spine. Elsa begins to assault her sister with tickles on all of Anna's most sensitive spots that she can reach.

"Elsa!" Anna gasps. "S-stop!"

"Nope! Not until you tell me your secret!"

"Not likely! I will never tell!"

"Suit yourself, then," Elsa says with a shrug, resuming her onslaught of tickling.

A moment passes before Anna finally gives in. "Fine! Fine! You win! I'll tell you! Just let me go!"

"See? Was that so hard?" Elsa asks as she gets up off of her sister.

"Yeah, actually. It was. And mark my words, you will pay for that," Anna says, shooting Elsa an angry look.

"Uh huh. Another empty promise. But I've stopped tickling you. Now you have to tell me how you knew what I was doing with Marcus tonight."

"Fine," Anna says with a defeated sigh. "I was walking with Kristoff back to say goodnight to Sven…"

That was probably another lie, but Elsa chooses not to acknowledge it out of the desire to remain unaware of what Ann and Kristoff do when they are alone together. Elsa knew they probably did things that were not considered appropriate for a princess and the man courting her, not by her standards and certainly not by society's, either. She knew what would happen if Anna let her in on what really went on between her and Kristoff behind closed doors. She would have to give her sister a firm talk on what is expected of an Arendellian monarch, and that was something that neither of the two royals wanted.

"… And then we heard you talking with someone, and we guessed it was Marcus. When you made that remark about Kristoff talking to Sven and how funny it is to you, Kristoff said he heard that, and I was so pissed at him. But I was happy he got what was coming to him, though. Then, I told him to go to bed and I gave him a kiss goodnight. I ended up doing that so I could spy on you two," Anna admits.

"So you heard everything?" Elsa asks.

"Yeah…"

"Well, as wrong as that was of you to do, I'm not entirely surprised," Elsa says with a shrug. "So why did you want me to tell you all about tonight if you witnessed all of it?"

"For two reasons. One: it would raise suspicion if I didn't immediately assault you with questions. And two: I kind of just wanted an excuse to spend the night with you…" Anna trails off, looking at the floor in embarrassment.

"Anna, you know you don't have to have an excuse to spend the night with me. For whatever reason you want to, I usually let you. Plus, I don't think you realize how true this is, but I enjoy the slumber parties we have. Even if we are a little old for them, I still love your company," Elsa says with a warm smile at her sister. "Now come on. It's late. Time for bed."

And with that, Anna crawls into bed as Elsa extinguishes the candles with her magic. She crawls in next to her sister, and they are both asleep instantly.

* * *

**Holy sweet mackerel! 4,412 words! I think I might have just beat my own personal record for chapter length! This was nine pages of single-spaced, eleven-point typed words using Calibri (Body) font. Which, for those of you who are unfamiliar with this particular font, is somewhat small. Regardless of how many points you increase its size to, this is still a pretty small font. Anyway, as promised, I gave you all a really, super-duper long chapter. Chapters will continue to be fairly long. Maybe not to this extent, though. I'm still in disbelief that I'm publishing a chapter with 4,412 words when you don't include this Author's Note. The hard drive on my laptop is probably gonna hate me, what with all the other documents I have on it. Those documents consist of mostly fanfiction, along with a little bit of my original writing and some stuff for school. I'm gonna start on the next chapter. And for those of you that are concerned as to when the plot of this story get juicier, don't worry. It will pick up fairly soon in the next few chapters. After all, Marcus has a past he would rather keep hidden from the world. How is that **_**not**_** gonna cause some conflict?**

**Goodbye for now, my dears!**

**-Symphonic Madness**


	5. Chapter 5

The following three weeks passed quickly for Queen Elsa and the other residents of the palace. The leg wound Marcus had suffered was healing nicely. Walking became easier with every day he spent living in the palace. The crutch he'd been given was being used less and less, and he was able to get around using his own two feet a lot more than Doctor Thomas had originally predicted he would at this point in the recovery process.

Marcus found himself fitting in nicely at the palace, and was finally starting to grow accustomed to life within its walls. He discovered that Elsa followed through with most of her obligations as queen during the weekdays, and took time on the weekends to enjoy herself and have fun with whomever wanted to join her. She still worked on those weekends, of course, but no meetings were held. The only business obligations the queen had to fulfill every weekend usually included a decent amount of paperwork, but also spending time with Anna, Kristoff, and even Marcus.

The young man treasured every moment he spent with her majesty. When Anna and Kristoff were busy doing only heaven knew what, Marcus and Elsa would spend their doing activities together that both of them enjoyed immensely. They would talk about anything and everything, engage in playful banter with one another, and stargaze in the garden when the weather and their schedules permitted. Sometimes, though, they'd just sit in the library and read silently together. It was those quiet afternoons spent together that Elsa and Marcus found themselves looking forward to when the opportunity came up. Marcus had found companionship and comfort in the most unexpected way, with someone even more unexpected. He'd found a true friend in the Snow Queen of Arendelle herself. It was shocking. It was confusing. It was absolutely wonderful.

Unbeknownst to Elsa and the rest of his new friends, Marcus was constantly fighting with himself. He knew he had to tell Elsa his secret sooner or later. However horrific and sad his past may be, they deserve to know. Marcus didn't want to ruin the bliss he'd found with them, though. He didn't want to let them see the pain he'd caused himself over the years. It was something he once vowed he would keep hidden from everyone.

_Meanwhile…_

_When Marcus opens his eyes, blackness floods his vision. He is confused, and fears the worst. When his eyes adjust to the dark, he sees he is no longer in his room in Arendelle's royal castle. Rather, he's…_

_No._

_It can't be. He is standing in his childhood bedroom; the same room he's spent almost his entire life sharing with his younger sister. With that thought, he looks frantically around the room in search of his baby sister. He faintly recognizes the shape of her small body; sleeping ever peacefully beneath the covers of her bed. Marcus lets out a sigh of relief, and walks over to her._

_She looks just as calm and happy as she was when he last saw her. But suddenly, the smell of smoke fills his nostrils, and he goes into a violent coughing fit. He realizes in horror that this is the night of the fire._

_The night his life changed forever._

"_Rosalie!" Marcus shouts in a voice so much younger than he recalls it being. "Rosie, please wake up! I smell smoke!"_

_And like that, he is no longer a participant in the events unfolding around him. Marcus becomes just a witness to the chaos, and he screams in frustration. He can't help. He can't do anything. All he can do is watch as he and his family suffer._

_The door bursts open and two people run through it. He instantly remembers their significance._

"_Father! Mother! What's going on?!" a much younger-looking version of Marcus exclaims._

"_The house is on fire! Marcus, take your mother and sister and get the hell out of here!" Marcus's father barks._

_The younger Marcus lifts Rosalie into his lanky arms. He rushes over to his mother and father, and they continue their panicked discussion._

"_I'm not leaving without you, Nathaniel!" his mother cries._

"_Katalina, do not do this to me! You have to go!" Nathaniel snaps. "Go! Now!"_

_No! I'm not going without you! Go, my children! Flee!" Katalina commands, putting her arms around Nathaniel, and looking desperately at Marcus and Rosalie._

"_No! I won't leave you here!" Marcus cries in anguish._

"_We won't be far behind you! Marcus, Rosalie, you have to listen to me. I love you both more than anything else in the entire world. No matter what, your father and I will always be with you," Katalina says with tears streaming down her face. "Now go! There's not much time left before this place falls apart! Run to safety, my loves!"_

"_I love you, too, children. We'll be okay. Just go!" Nathaniel shouts._

"_We will! I love you!" Marcus says._

_He breaks into a sprint, and makes it out unharmed. Rosalie has gained consciousness again, and he lets her go. It's then that Marcus notices the house. It groans, seconds away from collapsing._

"_Rosie! Watch out!"_

_The two siblings jump in opposite directions as the building comes down in a dilapidated heap of charred wood and ash. Lying in the remains of the place he once called home is the cold, unmoving body of his sister._

Marcus awakens from his nightmare with a gasp. He sits up in bed, but his head hits something hard, and he falls back onto the bed with a groan.

"Ow!" a very feminine voice yelps.

He opens his eyes and is met with the sight of an irritated-looking Elsa. She rubs her forehead, and Marcus shoots up again.

"Oh God! Elsa! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asks frantically.

"Yeah! I'm fine! I'm fine," Elsa says. "Your head just bumped into mine when you sat up. That's all."

Marcus removes the blankets covering him and sits on top of them. He scoots himself back on his bed until he is sitting up against the headboard. He motions for Elsa to sit next to him, and she does. She leans against the headboard of Marcus's bed and crosses her ankles. Marcus notices she is only wearing her nightgown. It looks awfully thin; woven with magenta-colored silk, and revealing a large portion of her collarbone and shoulders. The dress is short sleeved, and it hugs Elsa's body in all the right places before stopping at the middle of her shins, and gives Marcus a pleasant view of the smooth skin of her legs. Her hair is in her usual over-the-shoulder braid, and her feet are bare. Marcus can't help but think that magenta looks amazing on Elsa. It's one of the only times he's ever seen her in anything but various shades of blue, white, and violet, or the official colors of her kingdom. It's definitely not a bad transition.

He suddenly feels a small bit of embarrassment. He's dressed in a similar indecent fashion to the woman sitting beside him. He had long since abandoned his shirt, in favor of keeping himself cool in the summer heat; wearing nothing but a pair of brown pants and a sleeveless undershirt. Marcus is then left to wonder what Elsa is doing in his room this late at night anyway.

"So why are you here? It's the middle of the night," he asks her.

"I couldn't sleep. I decided to go to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk to help me, but as I passed by your room, I heard you talking in your sleep," Elsa says. "It didn't sound good, so I came into your room to check on you. You were tossing and turning and I figured you were probably having a nightmare. I sat down on your bed, and I was about to try and wake you up, but you chose that moment to wake up on your own, and here we are now."

The memory of that horrible dream he was having hits Marcus full force. He doesn't say anything, and Elsa continues.

"You can't tell me you weren't having one. I've had enough of my own to recognize when someone else is experiencing one," she says. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Marcus sighs. "I think that would be best. But first, I need to tell you a few things about my past. These are things I've never told anyone, not even Timber. I kept all of this hidden from you because I didn't want to risk giving up the joy I've found here with you, Anna, Kristoff, and the rest of your family… the rest of _my_ family. You have all become so close to my heart, and there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe from harm, even if there's a possibility that _I_ could cause it."

"Marcus…"

"Elsa, you have to promise to listen to all of this. I will answer any and all questions you have after I'm finished. But I need to get this off my chest."

"Okay…"

With a deep breath, Marcus begins his story. "I was born in a kingdom not far from here. I am sure you are familiar with the kingdom of Festning?"

He looks at her expectantly, and she nods in affirmation of her familiarity with the kingdom of Festning. Seeing this, Marcus continues.

"I am the eldest child of the heirs of two of the most influential noble families in the kingdom. My father, Lord Nathaniel, was forced into an arranged marriage with his best friend from childhood, my mother, Lady Katalina. Their families wanted them to be wed because it would be extremely beneficial to both parties such events were to take place. I was born a year after the ceremony took place, and was named after my maternal grandfather. When I was four years old, my sister, Rosalie, was born. We called her 'Rosie' for short, though. Life couldn't get much better. Unfortunately, that happiness was only temporary.

"When I was fourteen, the house my family and I lived in together caught fire. My parents did not make it. They ushered my sister and I out of the house first, and promised to meet us once they got out. I now realize it was an empty promise." Marcus laughs bitterly and blinks away the tears in his eyes. Elsa places a hand on his arm, encouraging him to keep going, which he does after a moment. "I saw the house I grew up in collapse before my eyes, and I knew I couldn't stay in that kingdom any longer. I would not be happy if I chose to remain there, so I fled. I ran as fast as the adrenaline in my veins allowed me to. I needed to get as far away from that place as possible.

"By the time I stopped to catch my breath, I realized I had lost sight of my sister. I spent the next two years searching aimlessly for her. Eventually, I decided that I should give up the search effort. I would most likely never see her again, and it was time to move on." The tears that were threatening to spill from Marcus's eyes earlier had long since begun to fall. Elsa hugs him tightly, but he hardly notices. "I never knew if she was alive or dead, and I didn't want to find out. Either way, I was alone.

"I kept going on foot through the harsh terrain. Not much time passed before I found a small, abandoned cabin in the woods just outside of Arendelle. I was in desperate need of food. But in order to fulfill that need, I had to acquire a job. I ended up with a position as a lumberjack's apprentice. The lumberjack I trained under was the man you know as Timber. He was more than twice my age, and more than twice my size.

"He became my best and only friend. He taught me everything about being a lumberjack, and about living in the woods. He taught me how to hunt, start campfires, cook, and even skin animals and make clothing from their pelts. Those skills came in great handy. Even after I outgrew the title of apprentice, Timber and I still remained great friends. He and the other lumberjacks were the ones who told me stories about you. Not to mention, I was there at the time of that Eternal Winter, and when you thawed it. I ended up spending a total of seven years in isolation before I rescued Anna and Kristoff."

Marcus's sobs make his whole body shake, and Elsa holds him even tighter than before. She asks the question that's been burning in her mind since he first spoke of the house fire.

"Your nightmare… Was it about the fire?"

Marcus nods vigorously. "Yes. It was. Only in this nightmare, I actually saw Rosie's body. For all I know, she could have actually made it through the disaster. But the chances of that are slim. God, I can't believe I lost her! My parents told me to take her to safety! They told me to keep an eye on her! But I didn't. All I did was run away. I didn't even have the decency to think of anyone but myself. Pathetic."

"Marcus, look at me," Elsa says, placing a cold palm on his cheek and turning his face towards her own. "Marcus, please. Look into my eyes. I need to tell you something, but I can't do it if you won't look at me."

Reluctantly, he brings himself to do as she asked. Her cool fingers trace the contours of his face, and the base of her palms rub gently against his goatee. She secretly relishes the feeling of the rough hair on his chin and upper lip. Pushing those thoughts aside, she starts to speak to him once more.

"A wise stranger once told me that the only one who can define who a person is and what they stand for is the person themselves. Nothing defines a person more than what is inside their heart. That includes someone's past. The past doesn't dictate the present. It only acts as a guide to how situations should be handled now, and in the years to come. The past is in the past. Mistakes are not meant to cause self-loathing and pain. We make mistakes so we can learn from them. We make mistakes because we're human, and no one is perfect. The mistakes we make are as much a part of life as any. Hating yourself won't solve anything. It will only cause pain to you and those you care about," Elsa says.

She says it with enough conviction in her voice that Marcus can't help but believe it. He breaks down, then, and his head falls on Elsa's shoulder as he sobs. He embraces her tightly, and he hears her begin to join him in his tears.

After what feels like an eternity, they pull away from one another. Elsa is still holding on tightly to Marcus's arms, and he is doing the same with hers. She gives him a compassionate smile, and he returns it.

"Thank you, Elsa," he says finally. "Thank you for coming here tonight. I can't express how lucky I feel that you happened to be walking by."

"You are so very welcome," Elsa says. "But there is a question I have to ask you."

"And that would be?"

"Do you want to build a snowman?" she asks with a mischievous grin.

"Quite frankly, your majesty, I would love to," Marcus says with a grin laced with an equal amount of mischief to that of the queen.

"Perfect."

With that, Elsa drags Marcus off the bed. She only lets him pause for a second to put on a long-sleeved tunic and a pair of shoes before tugging him out of the room with her. He sends up a silent thank you to whatever deity might be listening that his leg doesn't give him too much trouble. Elsa is giggling madly, and he can't resist joining her in her laughter as they sprint in the direction of the ballroom. Their bare feet pad in soft thumps down the corridors of the castle, and the sound of their laughter and mirth can be heard echoing off the walls. Despite their best efforts, the queen and her companion fail to stay quiet.

They reach the ballroom, and Elsa lets Marcus in ahead of her before shutting the door behind them. Marcus gives her an amused look.

"What are you waiting for, Ice Queen?" he teases. "I'm dying of old age waiting for you!"

"Shut up! I'm trying to catch my breath over here!" she retorts.

"Oh! Are you going out of shape, your majesty? Maybe you should lay off the chocolate," Marcus says, crossing his arms and smirking.

Elsa doesn't respond. She barrels toward him at full speed, knocking him off his feet on impact. He doesn't fall to the floor as he originally thought. He instead feels himself falling onto a soft pile of snow. _Damn, she's good_, he thinks to himself. Marcus hears a crackling sound, and looks around to see that she is freezing the floor of the ballroom in a sheet of ice. He realizes then what kind of position he and Elsa happen to be in as a result of her assault. Her body rests on top of his own, and her arms are braced on either side of his chest. Marcus has his hands pressed to her waist, and her head is nestled in the crook of his neck.

In that moment, Marcus swears he has never smelled anything more blissfully intoxicating than Elsa's hair and skin. He smells traces of coconut in her hair from her shampoo, but it's her skin that really gets to him. Her flawless ivory skin is scented with the amber soap she must have used when she bathed today. Elsa is imperfect in more ways than one. But to Marcus, her imperfections make her irresistible.

When he looks at her, he sees that her face has turned about a hundred different shades of red. She gets up off of him, and gives him a hand. In a split second decision he knows will probably get a snowball thrown at him, Marcus takes her hand and tugs her down into the snow beside him. She resurfaces; sputtering and wiping vigorously at her face to rid it of the snow. Elsa shoots him a deadly glare.

"First you call me fat, then you pull me into a pile of my own snow. Oh, you're gonna pay!" she says.

With a shocking amount of strength, she begins assaulting Marcus with punches to his stomach and ribs. He laughs and holds her wrists. He flips them over so he has her pinned, but she gives a sharp kick to his stomach and he falls over with a grunt. Elsa laughs long and hard in victory.

"Wait! Aren't you cold?" Marcus asks, gesturing to the queen's apparent exposure to the cold she's created.

"The cold never bothered me," Elsa says with a smirk.

"That's not surprising."

"I didn't think it would be."

But Marcus doesn't respond to her statement. He just gets up, and lifts Elsa into his arms bridal style.

"Hey! Put me down!" Elsa shouts.

"Nope. That's not gonna happen. Not until you apologize for attacking me."

"You had it coming!"

"Fair enough."

He begins walking away from the snow pile, but has to stop. Marcus somehow managed to forget that Elsa froze the ballroom floor. Elsa throws up her arms at her success, but in doing so, she whacks her captor in the face. They look at each other, and in that moment, they both know what the other is thinking.

That was something that Anna would do.

With that, Marcus and Elsa both bust out laughing. But as Marcus's balance continues to falter, the queen knows she has to do something if they are to remain standing. She flicks her wrist, and a pair of ice skates forms over Marcus's shoes.

"Elsa, I don't know if you know this, but I don't ice skate," he says.

"I don't know if you know this, Marcus, but unless you put me down and let me teach you, you _will_ fall on your ass," the queen retorts.

Foul language is only something Elsa does around her sister, Kristoff, and Marcus. Even then, it's rare. She is usually cautious of whatever gossipy staff could be lurking around, and even of the jovial snowman who is quite unpredictable at times in his whereabouts. Marcus is still shocked when the queen lets a dirty word slip from her scarlet lips, but he is better at hiding it for the sake of not embarrassing her.

"Fine. I don't know how good at this I'll be, though," Marcus says, releasing Elsa from his arms.

"If I can teach Anna to skate, I can teach you," she says confidently. "If it stresses your leg too much, let me know. You may be recovering quickly, but precautions still need to be taken."

"Deal."

"Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

Elsa takes his hands in hers, and they begin their lesson. Marcus sees that Elsa is no longer barefoot, and has given herself a pair of skates to match his own. At first, he is timid, and off balance. But Elsa seems to tolerate it well. He holds her thin arms in a death grip, and nearly falls over quite a bit as he struggles to adapt to the new footwear he has acquired.

It takes a few more minutes of calm instruction from Elsa, but Marcus does get the hang of it. Soon, he and Elsa are gliding across the frozen ballroom in an elegant dance that neither participant are aware they are in. Marcus is no longer dependent on Elsa for balance, but he still holds her as they fly across the room. She spins and he moves in for a dip in a series of movements they never knew they could do. With one last jump and twirl, Elsa skates toward Marcus and he lifts her into the air. She spreads her arms wide, smiling joyfully. She looks down at her partner, and he looks right back up at her. Their eyes meet in a battle between the thunderstorm in his gray eyes, and the blizzard in her cerulean ones.

"Whoa! Elsa! Marcus! That was… beautiful!"

Anna's voice snaps them out of their trance, and Marcus puts Elsa down beside him. A blush covers both of their faces. She is standing in the doorway in her yellow nightgown with Kristoff standing behind her in his pajamas as well.

"And you both say you don't dance," Anna says, smirking.

"We don't!" Elsa exclaims. "I was just teaching Marcus how to skate!"

"Uh huh. I don't buy it," Anna says dryly. "Don't you two realize that it's the middle of the night? What are you doing here anyway? Unless you were… You two were gonna build a snowman!"

Marcus and Elsa share a guilty expression, and Anna gasps. "You so were! Elsa, why didn't you invite me to join you?"

"You seemed pretty content with hogging the bed you were sharing with Kristoff. I didn't want to disturb you," Elsa says, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at Anna and Kristoff.

Kristoff gulps, and Anna continues on, unfazed. "Still! Now you _have_ to let us build a snowman with you guys!"

"Feel free," Marcus says. "I don't mind the extra help. And I don't think Elsa does, either."

"Not at all. Come join us!" Elsa exclaims, rushing over to Anna and pulling her and Kristoff into the room.

The ice skates Marcus was wearing disappear when Elsa melts them. She does the same with her own, and creates more snow. The four of them start on the snowman immediately afterwards. They split off into two groups; Elsa and Anna agree to build the head, and Kristoff and Marcus agree to build the body. This gives Anna and Elsa time to talk.

"So, the annual Coronate Ball is in a few days," Anna says as they work.

"I am aware. What about it?" Elsa asks.

"You seem to have taken a shine to Marcus. Perhaps he can escort you to the ball," Anna tells her sister, a look of mischief in her eyes.

"What?! No way! I mean, sure it'd be nice if he could go with me. And part of our original agreement when he first came here was that he would automatically have invitations for these sorts of things extended to him. But still! I don't even know how it would be possible! According to royal protocol, a knight or someone of equally high social status is the only man who can act as an escort to the queen," Elsa says in a wistful tone that does not go unnoticed by Anna.

Elsa then remembers Marcus's story. It hits her.

Marcus was technically nobility.

The thought makes her heart soar in happiness, and she doesn't quite know why. "Anna! Marcus _is_ a nobleman!"

"Wait, what?"

"He was born to a noble family in Festning," Elsa summarizes.

"He was? How do you know?" Anna asks as she puts the finishing details on the snowman's head.

"It's not my place to tell you his story. It isn't right for me to tell you without his consent. I'll let him do it when he's ready. After all, he only made me aware of his former status tonight," Elsa says.

"You seem awfully excited about this. Are you sure you don't have even a teensy little crush on this man?" Anna asks.

"What are we, twelve?"

"And a half."

Elsa groans. "Okay. You win. Let's just hope he asks so I don't have to."

Anna squeals in delight and tackles her sister in a bear hug. The boys happen to glance over at them as they work, and conversation between them resumes.

"I wonder what's got her so excited," Marcus says.

Kristoff shrugs. "No idea. It's Anna, though. What do you expect?"

"Good point."

"You know, there is a ball coming up. Elsa still doesn't have an escort," Kristoff says, patting the snow on the torso of the snowman.

"It hasn't been a problem before, I've heard. So why is it now?" Marcus asks.

"Could you be any more of a blockhead?"

"Excuse me?"

"I swear you are the densest man I've ever met!" Kristoff exclaims in exasperation. He continues on a little quieter so he doesn't alert the girls of his conversation with Marcus. "You obviously have _some_ feelings for her; feelings that go beyond the boundaries of friendship. Elsa and I are friends. You and Anna are friends. But you and Elsa have a connection that goes deeper than the casual friendship you claim to have with her."

"Even if I did have feelings for her, what makes you think she'd want a relationship with me? Hell, what makes you think Elsa wants a relationship at all? We've only known each other a few weeks. It's not like she's fallen in love with me. After that whole Hans incident, and how quickly that relationship formed and broke, I highly doubt she would be willing to be courted by a man she's known for less than a month." Marcus sighs. "Plus, I wouldn't be able to escort her to that damn ball if I tried. Only a man of high class can do that."

_But you are of high status_, Marcus thinks. _And Elsa knows that now. You were born a nobleman. Why not act like it?!_

"I've got a confession to make, Kristoff," Marcus says. "I was born of noble blood. So technically I could escort Elsa to the ball. But I'm not so sure she'd be willing to go with me."

"I'm not gonna ask how or why you managed to hide that from us," Kristoff says, shaking his head. "I'm just gonna say one thing: if you do not ask Elsa to accompany you to this ball, Marcus, I will see to it that Princess Anna makes your life a living hell. Sound good?"

Marcus knows to take Kristoff seriously in his threat, and he gulps before responding. "Sounds good."

"Good. The body of the snowman is finished. Let's bring it over to the girls. While we're over there, you _will_ ask Elsa if you can escort her. Do I make myself clear?" Kristoff asks in the most serious tone Marcus has ever heard him use.

"Yeah."

"Let's go then."

Marcus and Kristoff carry each of the snowman's body parts over to the sisters. The four of them put the pieces in place, and Anna adds a few finishing touches. They stand back and examine their handiwork.

"I must admit," Anna says as she looks at Kristoff. "You and Marcus exceeded my expectations on your snowman building skills. Well done, gentlemen."

"Why thank you, Anna. I am glad we earned your approval," Kristoff says. "I think we should go check on Sven, though. He's probably hungry."

Kristoff takes Anna's hand and leads her out of the room. First, though, he shoves Marcus toward Elsa and shoots him a wicked grin. Anna catches on instantly; loving the new, assertive side of her ice harvesting boyfriend. Once they are out of the room, she gives him a passionate kiss.

"What was that for?" Kristoff asks when she pulls away.

"You've got something up your sleeve. Something having to do with Marcus and my sister. I want in," Anna says breathlessly.

"I swear you know me too well. So I'm gonna tell you because I know you are probably aware of my intentions with those two," Kristoff says. "Marcus has got a pretty big crush on Elsa. He wants to escort her to the ball in a few days, and he is too goddamn chicken to ask her if he can."

"I've got the same problem with Elsa." Anna and Kristoff meet eyes, and an idea forms in both of their heads.

Kristoff grins at Anna. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Playing cupid with my sister and Marcus?" Anna asks, though she already knows the answer.

"Bingo."

Meanwhile, the two people in question are still standing awkwardly in the ballroom. Marcus is having a battle within himself on how he should approach the subject of the ball. Though his face remains timid and shy, on the inside, the argument taking place between his heart and his brain rages into an all-out war.

Elsa, on the other hand, is wondering what she should say to the man standing before her. She rings her hands together out of nervous habit. _God, he looks like he's seen a ghost. What could possibly be going through his mind right now? I know I should say something, anything, to break the tension. But how? What could I possibly_

Marcus clears his throat, and it breaks Elsa out of her thoughts. Instead of the tense anxiety that was once written all over his face, he is wearing an expression of determination. He takes a deep breath, and finally speaks up.

"So the Coronate Ball is coming up soon," he begins. After chastising himself for the clichéd, amateur nature of his statement, he continues. "I would be honored if you would… Um… accept me as your escort? God that sounded awful. Let me try again. No. Wait! Ugh. This is not going according to plan…"

Elsa interrupts him by placing a cold finger on his lips. "I do believe Anna's rambling habits are becoming yours. Let's try again, shall we?"

Marcus takes a deep breath and swallows his nerves. "Queen Elsa, would you do me the honor of letting me escort you to the Coronate Ball?"

"Much better," Elsa says with a warm smile. "Marcus, I would like nothing more. I suggest you get cleaned up, though. A shave and a haircut, perhaps?"

"A haircut, of course. But the beard stays," Marcus says with a triumphant grin. "I must tell you, I do not own any clothing that could be considered appropriate for a royal ball."

"That won't be a problem. I'll have your measurements taken, and get you a set of formal clothing made in time for the ball," Elsa says. "I look forward to seeing the changes that are to take place within the next few days."

"As do I, your majesty," Marcus says. He holds out his arm for Elsa to take. "Now, would you like to accompany me in pestering the kitchen staff for an early breakfast?"

"I will follow you to the dining room and no further. It would be rude of the queen to pester the same staff who feed her and the company she keeps," Elsa says.

"What's the fun in that? What happened to 'I'm the queen I can do whatever the hell I want'?" Marcus teases as they make their way to the dining room.

They continue back and forth like that, and the awkwardness of their earlier conversation seems to disappear. _These are going to be an interesting three days_, Marcus thinks to himself. _I can't wait._

**You know what? I'm just gonna stop saying I've beat my word count for chapter length. Chances are, it'll happen again, just as it did this time. So to avoid sounding like a broken record, I'm gonna cut that crap off right freaking now.**

**I am writing this, actually, in a hotel room. I am taking a much-needed vacation with a friend of mine. We are vacationing in a place called Frankenmuth, otherwise known as "Little Bavaria". It's in my home state of Michigan; where I've lived for the past eight years, where I still live, and it's the state I'm probably stuck in for the next decade or so. Who knows? Maybe I'll get the hell out of here sooner than that.**

**But for now, I'm content with spending my free time writing fanfiction, and playing my guitar and cello as if I will leave this rinky dink small town sometime soon. Well, it's 11:30 pm, and I've gotta check out of the hotel in the morning before having to pay another two hundred bucks for another night in this overpriced youth hostel (exaggeration, but still this hotel is extremely overpriced). Goodnight, good morning, good afternoon, take your pick, readers. I'm off to sleep!**

**Best wishes,**

**Symphonic Madness **


	6. Chapter 6

**I know I usually only put my Author's Notes at the end of the chapters, but please understand that what I have to say is important enough to warrant a pre-chapter A/N. This one in particular will be a bit long. But as I said before, it is very important that it is understood. Some of it is not required to read this chapter, but it is recommended. If you wish to skip to the chapter itself, I ask that you read the last paragraph of this Author's Note before you do so. It will give some vital clarification about this chapter and the chapters to come.**

**I have gotten some complaints (albeit tasteful) about the confusing tense this story takes place in. I am aware I have made several mistakes regarding that, along with various grammatical and fluency errors. If it significantly affects the reading experience, by all means let me know. You can leave a review, Private Message me, or even both. I don't care either way. All I ask is that you do so respectfully.**

**Reviews that are rude and disrespectful towards this story and/or towards myself will not be tolerated under any circumstances. Unkind reviews targeting other readers and/or reviewers will be tolerated even less. A review with a hurtful message to others will automatically be reported, and if the author of the comment does so on their own account, that profile will be blocked and reported to the Fanfiction site moderators as well. **

**Aside from that dramatic rant, I do have a few things to say that are relevant to the chapter and the chapters I post in the future. To avoid the confusion that I mentioned earlier regarding the tense of this story, I have decided to do something that I hope will lessen that confusion. If the chapter skips forward in time from the previous one, I will summarize what has happened with the characters in the time it's been since the last chapter using past-tense phrasing, and then I will add a line break before describing the events that are currently taking place using present-tense phrasing. By the way, Marcus's appearance changes a bit during this chapter, so any artists who are interested in possibly doing some artwork for this story are encouraged again to send it to me. I will provide my email over PM, if necessary. I would probably have an episode if anyone made a piece of artwork of Marcus. I might even just reach through my computer screen and hug you and sob out of happiness. Thanks to those of you who read even a little bit of this A/N. I hope you enjoy Chapter Six!**

**With Love,**

**Symphonic Madness**

* * *

The following three days went by in a blur. Soon enough, it was the day of the ball, and the palace could not be more hectic. Maids ran around tirelessly in preparation for the visiting dignitaries, and cooks were frantic in their decisions on what should be served. Elsa, who possesses little skill in that particular department of party planning, left Anna in charge of it. The princess was ecstatic that her sister let her plan everything, and promised to do the best she could in making these decisions. Elsa, in turn, was left to handle the diplomatic side of the whole ordeal. Both sisters, along with Marcus and Kristoff, were kept busy throughout the days as the party drew nearer.

True to her word, Elsa requested a tailor for Marcus. The tailor took a wide variety of measurements, and promised to have the outfit delivered in time for the ball. It arrived the morning of the grand event, and Marcus felt confident enough about how well it fit that he chose not to even take it out of the packaging until he was required to do so.

In order to keep his promise to Elsa, Marcus journeyed into town with Kristoff for a haircut. Kristoff decided he wanted to tag along because he thought they both needed some "man time". Marcus knew that was only the half-truth, and that Kristoff likely had every intention of teasing him. Unbeknownst to the ice harvester, though, Anna had pulled Marcus aside and gave him a pouch filled with coins that were to be used in buying Kristoff a new suit. Anna told Marcus that he would face her wrath if he should cause trouble. Marcus was more than happy to oblige to her command, and couldn't wait until the time came for Kristoff to get what was coming to him.

* * *

They arrive in town within minutes of leaving the palace. They end up going into the first barbershop they find. Marcus requests a shave and a haircut, and the barber gets to work. After perhaps the most excruciatingly boring hour of Kristoff's life, Marcus emerges from the little place.

"Okay. Judgment time. Do I look classy enough for this ball?" he asks as he approaches Kristoff.

Kristoff, who was sitting against the wall of the building, looks slowly up at Marcus. But the man standing before Kristoff is not the same man who walked with him into town. This man's hair is no longer a shoulder-length mess of unruly curls. Rather, it is a short brown mop that hangs halfway down his forehead. Kristoff was even surprised to see that part of the beard and mustache combination that Marcus once sported has been shaved off; leaving only a stylishly trimmed goatee in its place. With as much attachment Marcus showed to his beard and mustache, Kristoff is shocked to see that he was able to get rid of part of it so easily. To put it simply, the rugged vigilante Marcus was when he first met Kristoff now looked like a brand new man. Kristoff was aware of Marcus's miserable past, and Anna was, as well. The man who went through all of that does not look like the same man standing in front of Kristoff. He looks dignified and sophisticated; as if no tragic events had taken place, and Marcus still retained the air of nobility and grace that he was raised to possess. Kristoff shakes the grim thoughts from his mind, and gives Marcus a wide grin as he stands up.

"You like a classy-ass son of a bitch," he says, clapping Marcus on the shoulder. "I won't be surprised if Elsa knights you right then and there in the ballroom just for being so goddamn smooth."

Marcus laughs long and deep at Kristoff's comment. "Hey, she might actually do that. She said she had a surprise for me. So you may just be on to something there, man."

Kristoff laughs as he responds. "Maybe. Who knows? So, are you ready to head back to the castle?"

"Nope. You've gotta buy a new set of formal clothes, bud. Anna personally gave her orders that I force you into it," Marcus says, giving Kristoff a smug smile.

Kristoff scowls. "No way! Not gonna happen."

"Kristoff, this is _Anna_ we're talking about. If you don't do this, she's gonna have both our asses framed and hung on the wall. So I suggest you get to shopping before we're both slaughtered by an angry, redheaded Princess of Arendelle," Marcus says, shoving Kristoff in the direction of a nearby clothing shop.

The ice harvester complies, albeit reluctantly. It takes another hour and a half, but eventually, Kristoff and Marcus finish their rendezvous in the city, and make their way back to the castle. By then, the sun is setting. That is their cue that it is time to begin preparing for the ball. Marcus and Kristoff part ways, with Kristoff slugging Marcus in the shoulder and winking at him. He makes a suggestive comment about him and Elsa, and leaves Marcus to his own devices.

Marcus makes his way to his room, and begins to get ready. He fills the tub of his bathroom with warm water, and takes a hot bath to clean the dirt and grime from his skin. Once he finishes bathing, he drains the water in the tub and towels himself dry. He gulps when he sees the box containing his outfit sitting atop his bed. Without a second thought, he takes the clothing out and begins dressing. With anxious, shaking hands, he finishes a few minutes later. Marcus has not seen Elsa at all today. According to Anna, she was buried in paperwork and diplomacy meetings for pretty much the entire day. The red-haired bundle of energy assured Marcus that her sister would be present tonight, though. It eased his worries, but not by much.

_Elsa _will_ be there_, Marcus thinks to himself. _She won't abandon you in this._ With that in mind, he runs a comb through his hair before giving himself one last inspection in the full-length mirror. The outfit the tailor made for him exceeded anything Marcus had previously thought was possible. He looks a lot more regal and poised than he feels. The suit is composed of a blood red tailcoat with heavy, golden tassels on the shoulders. The jacket is embroidered with elegant golden patterns that line its sleeves and collar. Underneath the jacket is a black, button-up, cotton shirt tucked neatly into a pair of dress pants. He wears a silk red sash where the pants meet the shirt. The dress pants are jet black with a single red stripe going down the side of each pant leg, before disappearing into a pair of knee-high black leather boots. Marcus is mildly surprised when he finds that no gloves were made for him, and his hands are meant to be left bare. It's not very traditional for a gentleman attending a royal ball to have his hands exposed, according to Elsa. In not being given gloves, he is breaking tradition, and he is not the least bit worried about it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Marcus notices something strange leaning up against the wall of his bedroom. He moves to check it out, and sees that it is a sheathed rapier. Its handle is made with unbelievably intricate design, and Marcus's jaw drops. He notices a note attached to it by a small blue ribbon. He unfolds it, and reads the message inside.

_Marcus,_

_Please accept this rapier as my personal gift to you. I feel I have not yet repaid my debt to you for saving Anna's life. I pray you will never have to use this weapon under the circumstances it was made for. I had it specially made for you. I always hear you speak so passionately about your swordsmanship lessons as a child, and how familiar you are with weapons of this nature._

_Just so you know, this is not the only surprise I have for you. For now, I ask that you wear it with your attire for the ball. I will see you tonight._

_-Elsa_

Marcus finishes reading the handwritten message from the queen and sets it down carefully on his bed. He unsheathes the rapier and his eyes widen in awe. The weapon is the most beautiful and flawless piece of metalwork Marcus has ever laid eyes on. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he dons a thin leather belt, sheathes the rapier, and attaches it to the belt at his hip. He checks the time on the grandfather clock, and takes a deep breath.

It is time.

Elsa will meet him at the doors to the ballroom, but he must arrive before she does. He blows out the candles in his room before shutting the door behind him as he leaves. He takes the careful, practiced strides of an eager teenage boy; trying and failing miserably to keep his excitement in check. Marcus reaches the ballroom after what feels like eons, and begins to wait for the woman he is to escort. He doesn't have to wait long. The second he catches sight of the queen, though, he stops breathing.

Queen Elsa is wearing perhaps the most elegant gown Marcus has ever been lucky enough to see. It is a floor-length dress in a shade of red that matches the suit Marcus is wearing. Her dress, like Marcus's suit, is embroidered with patterns of gold that wrap around its long sleeves and meet at the low neckline of the bodice. The dress shimmers in a million, tiny sequins, and has a slit going up its side to reveal the flawless ivory skin of Elsa's calf and knee every time the queen takes a step. Behind her is a short train made of mesh, semi-see through fabric, with intricate designs spreading out across it. Her hair is pinned in a coronate style, and she wears her golden tiara. At this moment, as Elsa makes her way ever so gracefully towards him, Marcus can't help but think she is more goddess than mortal woman.

He holds his arm out, and Elsa accepts it with a smile that makes Marcus even more awestruck. "I must give that tailor credit. He did a fine job. You look like quite the nobleman."

"If I may be so bold to say this, Elsa, you look absolutely breathtaking. I doubt there has ever been a woman with more beauty and grace than you," Marcus says earnestly.

Elsa blushes. "Thank you, Marcus. You look amazing, as well. The new haircut works well for you."

Before Marcus can respond, Kai approaches Elsa. "Are you ready, your majesty?"

She looks at Marcus, and when he nods, she gives her answer. "We are ready. Thank you, Kai."

"You are most welcome, your grace," Kai says with a bow. He opens the doors, and enters them. "Her majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle. With her escort for the night, Lord Marcus."

Elsa squeezes Marcus's arm and shoots him an affectionate smile before walking with him into the ballroom. The party guests sweep into bows out of respect for Arendelle's queen. When Marcus and Elsa take their place side by side at the front of the room, they show their own signs of respect towards the crowd before them. Marcus bends forward in a bow with Elsa still holding onto his arm. The queen curtsies, and when she resumes standing, the crowd applauds her and the man standing before her. Marcus feels all eyes on them both, or more likely, all eyes on Elsa. Marcus realizes then that the majority of these people, if not all, have ever seen Elsa in much other than the colors of her kingdom, or in the varying shades of blue that are often associated with her.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Elsa begins, snapping Marcus out of his trance. "You have all come here tonight in celebration of the one year anniversary of my coronation. But as much of a cause for celebration as that may appear to be, we have so much more to rejoice. Arendelle is experiencing an unprecedented time of peace and economic prosperity. Profits for Arendelle's major exports are higher than ever, and the citizens of my kingdom are happy.

"But we are also here to celebrate Arendelle's economic success, but my sister and current heir to the throne, Princess Anna, and I have made the decision to honor someone very near and dear to our hearts. When Princess Anna and Ice Master Kristoff were attacked by a gang of thieves, a man saved them, and was injured in the process. The savior I speak of stands before you now. Lord Marcus, the entire kingdom of Arendelle owes you a great deal of thanks for your courage and sacrifice. We have allowed you residence within the walls of our home, and I now see that I made the right choice in permitting it.

"Lord Marcus has shown an exceptional amount of intelligence and wisdom. As the firstborn son of the late Lord Nathaniel and Lady Katalina of Festning, you possess the necessary credentials for me to give you a position I estimate you will fit perfectly into.

"As some of you may already know, my council is soon to lose a valuable member. Lord Ivan has been a loyal friend to both my father and I, and I speak on behalf of my sister and myself when I wish him the best in his retirement. According to Arendelle law, my council is now in need of a new member. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my choice for the newest member of the Arendellian royal council, Lord Marcus. I pray you accept this position, and the training that is to come with it."

Marcus's grin can't get much wider as he looks into Elsa's eyes. "I accept this position, your majesty. And look forward to serving on your council when you determine I am ready."

"Then I must present you with this," Elsa says, gesturing her butler over. The butler is holding a pillow with a golden sash on it. Elsa removes it. "This will act as a symbol of your new status on my council, and to the people of Arendelle."

Marcus bows his head, and Elsa puts the sash over his shoulder. She gives him a grin that only he can see as she makes the final adjustments. He stands up straighter when Elsa pulls away.

"Presenting the newest member of the Arendellian Royal Council: Lord Marcus of Arendelle," Elsa announces to the room.

The room's occupants repeat her words, and break into a round of applause. Marcus doesn't even bother trying to hide his glee when he sweeps the queen into a very tight, very improper hug. Either no one noticed, or they are looking the other way just this once.

"Okay, what was that about?" Anna asks as she rushes up to her sister. "I've got a few things to say to you, sis. First of all, that gown is absolutely stunning. Second of all, giving Marcus a position on your royal council?! I hope you realize he probably doesn't know anything about Arendellian politics. Third of all, not telling me you were doing any of this? What's wrong with you?"

"I figured the gown would be a nice change away from my typical colors. But giving Marcus a position on my council is something I really did think a long time about. He has the credentials, the intelligence, and the wisdom, when he chooses to use it of course," Elsa shoots a smirk at Marcus, who rolls his eyes. "With the proper training, he could be just what my council needs. He knows the terrain surrounding Arendelle, and he could provide accuracy in what parts of that land we utilize. I also figured people would wonder why a strange man was inhabiting the palace without any sort of connection to the politics that take place there. Why didn't I tell you? Anna, you and I both know that you don't have much of a filter, and don't fare too well in keeping secrets. There. Did that answer your questions to your expectations?"

Anna opens her mouth to protest, but stops herself with a sigh. "Yes, Elsa. But still. You owe me big time for this one. Aside from that, though. Marcus, you look dashing. You are a damn fine piece of arm candy."

"Hey! I'd say I'm a pretty nice piece of arm candy!" Kristoff says as he comes up to the group.

"What took you so long? I've been here for, like, fifteen minutes!" Anna asks, looking at her boyfriend accusingly.

"I've been here, too! Some Arendelle noblemen wanted to discuss the sale of ice with me, and I couldn't get away, I swear!" Kristoff says, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Fine. You're off the hook," Anna says. "But as for my sister, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to interact with the guests. Come, Kristoff."

Before Elsa or Marcus can say anything, Anna makes a mad dash in the opposite direction, dragging Kristoff behind her. Once the two are out of earshot, Elsa and Marcus look at one another, and bust out laughing.

"I swear Anna has that boy wrapped around her finger," Elsa says, still laughing.

"He follows her around like a lost puppy. I don't think I've ever seen a man devote so much of himself to a woman without a ring on his finger," Marcus says.

Marcus and Elsa meet one another's eyes. The look she wears on her face right now tells Marcus he should say something, anything. He says the first thing that comes to mind.

"Would you like to dance?"

"You know I don't dance."

"I don't either. But I still want to," Marcus says, holding out his arm and grinning at her.

"It's not proper for a queen to dance at the ball she's hosting."

"Elsa, what have you done with me in the weeks I've been here that could even remotely be considered proper?" Marcus asks with a wink. "Now come on. I want to try out my new and improved balancing skills."

"Do you even know how to waltz?" Elsa asks skeptically.

"I haven't done it in a while, but I know the basics."

"Fine. Lead the way."

Marcus does just that. He leads her to the dance floor just as the band begins a waltz. She places one hand on her dress, and the other into Marcus's waiting palm. Marcus puts his other hand on Elsa's waist, and they begin to dance. It's like the whole room disappears, and Marcus and Elsa are in their own little world. Marcus proves to be more graceful in his footwork than his partner expected. They spin and glide across the dance floor together as if two parts to a single machine. A twirl. A dip. A jump. It all comes together perfectly. The couple doesn't stop there, though.

Silently, they make their way out of the ballroom in the direction of the garden. Anna, who is witnessing their departure, reminds herself to bug Elsa to thank her for this later. She is a distraction in disguise as the perfect party host; keeping the nobility and visiting dignitaries occupied so as not to draw attention to the queen and her escort's absence.

Meanwhile, Elsa and Marcus reach a stopping point in the castle gardens. Beneath a weeping willow tree, they pause to gaze at the stars above them. Elsa's fingers are interlaced with Marcus's, but neither of them seem to notice. Marcus, for his part, is doing his best to control his rapid heartbeat.

"It's so beautiful out here," Elsa says. "It takes my breath away how amazing this is."

Marcus isn't looking at the stars. Rather, he's looking at the queen standing beside him. He turns her to face him, and takes both of her hands into his own. He chooses his next words carefully.

"Yeah. It is beautiful. But I have to admit. The view I'm looking at now is even better."

Elsa looks at him then. The trust and admiration in her eyes nearly slays him. Without thinking, he places a gentle, calloused palm on her cheek. Marcus, realizing what he just did, quickly pulls his hand back and rubs the back of his head.

"Oh God! Elsa! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to test your boundaries like that! Ugh! I'm such an idiot! Can you ever forgive…"

Elsa stops him with a finger to his lips. "You talk too much."

And like that, her lips are on his. Marcus's eyes widen in shock. _Wait! She's kissing you! What do you do? Oh! Right! Kiss her back, moron!_ But before he can do that, Elsa pulls away; blushing like crazy.

"Sorry about that…" she mumbles.

"Don't be. But you can repay me by letting me do this."

Marcus wraps his arms around the queen and kisses her with every ounce of confidence he can muster. Elsa's hands find themselves embedded in Marcus's hair; pulling him closer with every move she makes. He holds her tighter as the world around them disappears into oblivion. When they break apart, Elsa's hands remain in place on Marcus's shoulders. Marcus still has his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. They gaze at each other breathlessly.

"What are we doing?" Elsa murmurs. "Three weeks isn't enough time to really get to know someone."

"Perhaps we might be the exception, my queen," Marcus says. He decides to go with what he feels in his heart when he continues. "In the weeks I have been living here, you have seen a side of me that I would otherwise never show. You have helped me see that my past should remain in the past. You gave me new hope for what I can accomplish in the future. You've also given my life meaning again. That must count for something.

"You know, Kristoff and I had a conversation a few days back. He said that it's clear as day that I have feelings for you. And as much as I hate to admit defeat, the big oaf was right. I do have feelings for you. But if you don't share the sentiment, I will understand completely. I just want you to know how strong I feel about you. I don't know if it's love yet, but if given the chance, it could turn into that."

"Marcus," Elsa says. "If I didn't return the feelings you have for me, I don't think I would've kissed you first. I think this could be something wonderful. I really do. I need to know that you'll give me time to adjust to all of this. It's all a bit terrifying."

"Elsa, as long as I'm with you, I am willing to wait. I can wait as long as you need. You control the pace. I want to go at a pace that makes you comfortable. I don't mind taking things slow. The only thing I ask is that I remain the only one you would ever do something like this with," Marcus says.

"I hope you realize, though, that we must keep this fairly hidden. We can't let the public see that the newest member of my council is also my… well, whatever it is we are. They would probably get the wrong idea. As much as it pains me to say it, our relationship must remain a secret for the time being," Elsa says, closing her eyes and hanging her head in disappointment.

"I understand. It's okay if the moments we share are done so away from prying eyes," Marcus murmurs as he leans his forehead on Elsa's.

"Marcus…I'm so scared. I don't think…"

"Don't. Don't think. When you think, you doubt. When you doubt, you deny your heart the happiness it wants so desperately to feel."

"Alright. But there is one last thing we have to decide on."

"And that is?"

"How and where we should tell Anna and Kristoff."

"Good point. I suggest we wait until they are in a location where they can't cause a scene. Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Ah. But you see, I have to start training you in Arendelle political customs tomorrow. I'm afraid we might just have to let them figure it out on their own."

Marcus grins. "I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

**I promise this story is about to pick up speed! Don't worry. But in order to do that, I have to skip forward in time once again. It won't be that big of a time lapse, though. Deepest apologies. Until next time!**

**-Symphonic Madness**


	7. Chapter 7

**I know I'm breaking my own tradition here in putting yet another Author's Note at the beginning of a chapter. But this new announcement is fairly important.**

**Fair warning for those of you who are not big fans of foul language. A conversation does take place within this chapter that is not exactly kid friendly. This story was given a T rating, after all. I rated it that way for a reason. I'm gonna be honest. I swear like a sailor. I swear a lot more outside of my writing than I do within it. I'm female, and I know it's not considered ladylike to curse that much. I do possess the ability to determine when swearing is not the best option. So there. But a word is only dirty if you make it out to be. This conversation and others like it are just there to show readers that Marcus and Kristoff **_**are**_** men, you know, and men tend to use some pretty bad language at times. Yes. Even Disney men. This is Fanfiction. This is my interpretation of a possible scenario that could take place after the events in Frozen. You can skip that whole conversation if you want. It's not that crucial to the plotline of the story. I just figured I'd add some real life masculine characteristics to Marcus and Kristoff.**

**Happy reading!**

**-Symphonic Madness**

* * *

To say Marcus was disappointed with the way his political training turned out to be would be an understatement. The month that followed the Coronate Ball was one of grueling lessons on topics ranging from politics to history, to economics, and everything in between. He spent the majority of his time with Elsa, though that time was not always enjoyable.

Every morning, Marcus was woken up at seven am sharp by various butlers. Those butlers were really starting to get on his nerves, but he did his best to hide it. Marcus was putting in as much effort as he could to make Elsa proud. He often spent the nights in his room by candlelight reading informational books he found in the palace library. As dreadfully boring as these books and lessons were, Marcus wouldn't trade it for the world.

When the time came each day for a learning session with Elsa, Marcus found himself looking forward to it. They would rest on the sofa in her office and she would read to him from the book she brought with her. He would lie on the couch and lean on the armrest for support, while Elsa would nestle herself into a position between his legs. One of his hands would be gently tracing patterns on her flat stomach, and the other would remain behind his head as a pillow. Sometimes, Marcus wouldn't even be paying attention to what it was that Elsa was speaking about. Instead, he'd just listen to the sound of her voice, and secretly revel in its smooth, calming nature.

The sudden change in the way Marcus and Elsa interacted with one another was something that Anna and Kristoff caught on to very quickly. When they found out about the blossoming relationship the queen and her new councilman had, Anna and Kristoff were ecstatic. On one hand, Anna was overjoyed that her older sister had finally found someone who makes her happy. On the other hand, Kristoff was just happy Marcus had quote "pulled his head out of his ass", and got up the guts to be with the woman he had been obsessing over.

Elsa, for her part, was doing her best to increase the number things she allowed within her comfort zone. This resulted in passionate exchanges and intense cuddling sessions that Elsa found herself growing fond of. The queen had devoted the majority of her time personally overseeing Marcus's training. As strange as the other council members thought it was, they did not question her majesty's motives. They trusted her judgment, albeit with mild hesitance.

* * *

Marcus is on his way to the barracks where Arendelle's soldiers and castle guards train. Elsa had granted Marcus the rest of the day to himself, and he is more than eager to utilize his newfound freedom. Kristoff was to meet him there, and Marcus couldn't wait to shove his victory in the ice harvester's face as retribution for the last sparring match they had. Plus, he was itching to use his new rapier some more.

He arrives at the barracks, and is granted access to its utilities by the men who guard it. Marcus shares playful greetings with the various people he recognizes.

"Marcus! You sophisticated bastard!" a tall, muscular man bellows, clapping him on the back. "It's about time you got off your high horse and started associating with commoners like us!"

"Odie!" Marcus exclaims, punching the man in the arm. "It's great to see you!"

"I take it her majesty let you off the leash for the time being?" Odie teases. "Or did you promise her some _incentive_, if you know what I mean."

"I'd been a good dog that day. I guess she thought I deserved a treat," Marcus says. "I probably wouldn't be able to offer her that sort of incentive without her freezing me to the wall."

"Don't lie to yourself, Marcus. You'd eat your own foot if it meant you got to see what that woman is like in the bedroom," Odie says wickedly. "Then again, if you ate your own foot you wouldn't have room for much else. I'd say that's a pretty sorry situation, if you ask me."

"I'd probably do a lot more than eat my own foot," Marcus says.

"I'm gonna make a strong bet and say she's absolutely wild if you happen to get lucky enough to bed her," Odie says with a sinful smirk.

"I hope you realize that Elsa would slaughter you both if she heard the conversation you're having about her," Kristoff says as he comes up to them.

"That's why you are gonna keep your mouth shut," Marcus says, shoving Kristoff in the direction of the training room. "I swear if you breathe so much as a word about this, I will kill you."

"If the queen doesn't kill you first, son!" Odie calls after him as he bellows his laughter.

"So is there any particular reason you wanted to have a rematch today?" Marcus asks as he strips himself down to his undershirt.

"Do I have to have a reason? Is it possible for me to just want to kick your ass again?" Kristoff asks, removing his own outerwear.

"If training with these scoundrels here has taught me anything," Marcus says, doing a few stretches to prepare himself for the fight. "It's that a man fistfights another man for only two reasons: either he has to defend his woman's honor, or he has something on his mind. I don't think I've done anything that warrants you to defend Anna's honor. So obviously something is bothering you."

"Fine. I'll tell you," Kristoff says. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

"Ladies first."

Marcus throws a punch, and Kristoff retaliates by grabbing his fist, twisting his arm behind his back, and kicking him in the back. "Is that all you got?"

"Not even close. Now tell me what's wrong."

Kristoff attempts a kick, but Marcus dodges it. "I've been with Anna for about a year now."

"Yeah. What's your point?" Marcus asks, ducking below Kristoff's incoming fist.

"Well," Kristoff begins, attempting another punch. "I really do want to stay with her. I mean, she's the only person I've ever felt I can trust. I used to say that Reindeers are better than people. But now I don't think that motto is necessarily true. Anna is stubborn, obnoxious, and short-tempered. But God, Marcus. That girl is my whole world."

"Cheesy," Marcus says, sweeping his leg and tripping Kristoff. "But go on."

Kristoff grunts as he falls to the floor, but is quick to stand up again. "I think… I think I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

Marcus is so stunned that he doesn't have time to avoid Kristoff's next attack. He lands a sharp kick to Marcus's ribcage; sending him to the floor. Though Marcus retaliates soon thereafter with another sweep to Kristoff's legs. The ice harvester falls once again, but Marcus allows no leverage. He pins Kristoff to the floor with his foot, and gives him a victorious grin.

"I guess you got your payback," Kristoff says with a chuckle.

Marcus laughs and helps him up. "I guess so. But still. I think it's fantastic that you're finally popping the question. 'Bout time you finally put a ring on her finger."

"Yeah, no kidding. I'm just happy I was finally able to afford a ring," Kristoff says with a shrug. "Buying a decent engagement ring on an ice harvester's salary was probably the biggest financial investment I've ever made. It's hard to find a reasonably priced ring that is fit for a princess of Arendelle."

"Kristoff, with the way Anna feels about you, she'd probably take a woven twig if it was meant to be an engagement ring," Marcus says, patting his friend's shoulder. "That girl loves you."

"I sure as hell hope you're right," he says. "Listen, I'm gonna go back to the castle. I need to plan how I'm gonna do this."

"Alright, then. Good luck," Marcus tells him, deciding not to tease him this time.

Marcus stays behind for a couple of hours after Kristoff has left. He practices with his rapier with the precision and skill he was unaware he still had. He has just made it out the door when Elsa's voice surprises him.

"Hi," she says. "Figured you were still here."

"Hey, Elsa," Marcus says with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to discuss some things with the Captain of the Guard," she says with a shrug. "And I figured I could walk home with you, if that's okay. I don't want to seem too clingy."

"Elsa, the last word I would use to describe you is 'clingy'," Marcus tells her as he takes her hand in his. "I would love for you to walk back with me."

The queen gives him a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They start the journey home, and continue it in pleasant silence. The walk back isn't too long, but in the darkness, it seems that way. Elsa had a lantern in her hand when they first left, and has since passed it on to Marcus to hold. The dim light it provides doesn't make the trek any less ominous, much to Marcus's dismay.

Horse hooves can be heard somewhere off in the distance, but Marcus and Elsa don't fret too much over it. It isn't until they get closer that Marcus becomes on edge. He holds his arm out in a gesture for the queen to stop, and she complies; sensing her companion's unease. He moves the lantern in all directions in an attempt to see who is nearby. But it is to no avail.

"Who's there?" he asks.

The hooves get closer still, and Marcus breaks into a sprint with Elsa following close behind. They continue to run, but it doesn't do much good. Marcus figures that this would be a good time to see who is following them, and fight if he needs to. The source of the hooves is revealed, then. A hooded figure rides atop a brown horse. Marcus can't make out any details on the stranger's face. The rider pulls back on the reins, bringing the horse to a stop in front of Marcus and Elsa.

"Uh, Marcus…" Elsa says, glancing between Marcus and the stranger.

"Who are you?" he asks. "If you don't give your identity within the next ten seconds, I will attack you."

He places a palm on the butt of his sword to further prove his point, but the strange rider remains silent. Marcus tears towards the horse; ripping the person off of it and sending the horse into a startled frenzy. Marcus throws the hooded stranger to the ground and keeps them pinned with his foot. He unsheathes his rapier and points it directly above the rider's neck.

"Elsa! Go! I'll handle this!" he shouts. He turns to the person he's captured. "Reveal yourself!"

Instead of doing as Marcus asked, the hooded figure grabs his ankle. With a surprising amount of force, Marcus is thrown backwards onto the ground. The figure towers over him, and he looks up in fear.

"If you intend to harm us, I beg that you spare the queen. I'll give you what you want just don't hurt Elsa," Marcus pleads.

The stranger comes forward, and places delicate hands on their hood. With a tug, the hood falls back, revealing to Marcus a feminine, and oddly familiar appearance. The girl has a heart-shaped face, and her hair is just a few shades lighter than Marcus's. It is pulled back in a low ponytail, but that's not what catches Marcus's attention. It's the girl's eyes. They are a beautiful shade of green. She speaks, and he feels as if he was just tossed into a brick wall.

"Hello, Marcus."

Marcus looks at her with a stunned and even somewhat fearful expression. "Rosie…"

* * *

**I feel terrible. I gave you a short chapter AND I left you with a cliffhanger. God, I'm an awful person. To make up for it, I promise the next chapter will be longer. Why wouldn't it be after such a monumental plot twist? Mwahahahaha!**

**I still love you all, just so you know. You're my absolute favorite people in this entire world.**

**-Symphonic Madness**


	8. Chapter 8

**So I've got some bad news, folks. I'm sorry once again for breaking my tradition of not putting Author's Notes before a chapter starts, but this is a pretty big piece of news.**

**I am having to send my laptop in for repairs, and won't get it back for a little while. Needless to say, I'm fairly irritated. I had already completed a decent-sized portion of this chapter, but I was an idiot and didn't save it on a flash drive. So I'm rewriting it all. I am currently using the spare laptop my mother and I keep for emergencies like this one. We are both prone to having computers hate us, so we keep a backup. It's an ancient MacBook Pro that has so much wrong with it that it is just barely good enough to use. But I intend to write with it until my computer comes back.  
**

**Ta ta for now!**

**-Symphonic Madness**

* * *

"_Hello, Marcus."_

_Marcus looks at her with a stunned and even somewhat fearful expression. "Rosie…"_

* * *

It's not true. It's not her. It's not his baby sister. She's dead. He never found her. It's all too much. Marcus's head is spinning, and for a brief moment he feels he might throw up. He composes himself well enough to attempt to stand, and he would've fallen back down if it weren't for Elsa's arms catching him and hauling him to his feet.

"It can't be…" Marcus breathes. "No. It isn't. You're lying! You can't be my sister. She died in the fire."

"Marcus…" the girl says, taking a step towards him.

"No! Get away from me!" Marcus spits.

"Marcus, please. Please believe me when I say that I really am your sister. It's me, Rosie. Trust me when I say that I am who I say I am," the girl pleads. "I'm begging you to look me in the eyes and try to see that it's me."

Elsa, who is still holding tightly on to Marcus, speaks up. "Marcus, this looks a great deal like the girl you described as your sister to Anna, Kristoff, and I. It has been years since you've seen her. A girl can go through a lot of physical changes in the nine years you've been separated. You said she was ten years old the last time you were together. It wouldn't surprise me if this is your sister, but instead of the little girl she was when you knew her, she is a woman. Plus, I do recall you telling me that you never did find her. She could have survived the fire. Even if the likelihood was slim at that time, it is still possible."

"She's right," the girl says.

"Fine. If you are my sister, prove it."

"Marcus!" Elsa chastises.

"No, Elsa! If she really is my sister, she will be able to prove it," Marcus snaps. "If she can't provide decent enough proof, I refuse to believe her."

Elsa opens her mouth to scold him again, but the girl in question speaks before anything more can be said. The girl clears her throat.

"When I was six and you were ten, you took me out to teach me how to ride my bike. Mom and Dad told you not to, but you did it anyway. I ended up falling and scraping my knee. You carried me back to our house and bandaged up my knee. Hell, you even kissed it all better. I was still upset about getting hurt, so you gave me one of your favorite toffee candies that you never shared with anyone. When our parents came home, you explained what happened and said it was your idea to take me out, even though I was the one who kept pestering you to do it. You were sent to our room without supper, and you didn't blame me for it at all. Later that night, I snuck you in a plate of leftover food, and you read to me until I fell asleep. Then, you tucked me in and hid the tray under your bed when you thought I had completely fallen asleep," the girl explains.

"Rosie…" Marcus breathes. "It is you! Rosalie! My baby sister! Oh my God it's really you!"

They rush toward each other and fall to the ground in a passionate embrace. Both siblings shake as joyful sobs wreak their bodies. Rosie is gripping Marcus's shirt so tightly in her fist that her knuckles turn white, and Marcus is kissing her cheeks and forehead over and over again. He holds her face in his hands and wipes away the remaining tears.

"I've missed you so much," he murmurs.

"I've missed you, too, big brother," Rosie says.

Marcus glances behind him, and suddenly remembers that Elsa is still standing there. He gets up and helps his sister do the same before going to Elsa's side. Rosie looks at the two curiously as Marcus wraps an affectionate arm around Elsa's waist.

"Elsa, this is my younger sister, Rosie," Marcus says, gesturing to the young woman in front of him. She curtseys, and Marcus continues. "Rosie, Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

Rosie drops to one knee in a respectful bow. "It is an honor to meet you, your majesty. I am truly humbled."

"There is no need for formalities, Rosalie," Elsa says with a friendly smile. "Please. Call me Elsa."

Rosie stands up and grins at the queen. "Then I ask that you call me Rosie."

"Deal," Elsa says. "But if I may be so bold, where are you staying for the night? You look as if you haven't had a decent amount of sleep in days."

Marcus takes his first good look at Rosie since their reunion, and he realizes that Elsa has a good point. Rosie is wearing a white cotton tunic, black vest, and black cloak with a pair of black pants and riding boots to match. It isn't very traditional for a woman to wear anything but dresses and skirts, but that's not what Marcus is focused on at the current moment. Her clothes are wrinkled and look filthy, but when Marcus looks in her eyes, he sees the truth in Rosie's possible exhaustion. There are dark bags beneath the emerald orbs, and it breaks Marcus's heart that Rosie could have put herself through that just to see him.

"I dunno," Rosie says sheepishly. "I was thinking about maybe sleeping in a haystack somewhere. I haven't had too many good experiences staying in taverns and inns. Those men see a nineteen year-old girl walk in alone and it's open season for horrible pick-up lines and drunken groping."

Marcus laughs hard and deep. "There she is! There's the brutally honest sister I've been missing!"

He goes over to her and traps her in a headlock. He digs his knuckles into her scalp, and Rosie squirms and tries to push him away. Elsa chuckles and shakes her head fondly. _Old habits die hard, I suppose_, she thinks to herself.

"Youch! Marcus quit it!" Rosie says with a grunt. "God, will you ever stop acting like such a child?"

He lets her go, and she shoves him, but it's Elsa who answers Rosie's question. "Not that I see."

Now it's Rosie's turn to laugh. "Even the queen of Arendelle thinks you're a child. How does that make you feel, Marc?"

"It doesn't faze me in the slightest," Marcus says with a pirate smirk directed at Elsa.

Elsa rolls her eyes. "Aside from your brother's obvious immaturity, I would like to offer you a place in the palace for the remainder of your stay in Arendelle. It's apparent you would not be comfortable staying at an inn, and I refuse to let you stay anywhere equally dingy."

"I couldn't possibly ask you…"

"I insist," Elsa says, interrupting her.

"It's best not to argue with this one," Marcus tells his sister, gesturing to Elsa. "Trust me. I've tried. It doesn't end well."

"Alright then," Rosie says. "Thank you, Elsa. I appreciate it."

"You are most welcome. Now come on. The castle isn't far from here. And I think we could all use a cup of Arendellian hot chocolate," Elsa says, taking a step in the direction of her home.

"You will absolutely love Arendellian hot chocolate," Marcus gushes. "It is seriously the best-tasting hot chocolate you'll ever have."

"That sounds amazing!" Rosie exclaims, excited at the prospect of a warm drink.

"You mentioned your age earlier. Nineteen, am I correct?" Elsa asks.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I was wondering because I have a younger sister. I thought you looked to be around her age, but I wanted to be sure," Elsa says.

"So I've heard," Rosie says with an affirmative nod. "Princess Anna, right?"

"Yeah," Marcus says, joining the conversation. "But I am warning you now, she's a giant ball of energy."

"Pretty much. In fact, I highly recommend you don't make any sudden movements around her," Elsa teases.

By then, they've reached the castle gates. The guards spot their queen and her company, and quickly open the gates to let them in. When they reach the front entrance to the palace, they are ambushed. Anna bursts through the heavy, wooden doors and nearly knocks Elsa and Marcus over in her surprise hug.

"Where have you two been? What took you so long? Why didn't you send word that you'd be late?" Anna asks, pointing an accusatory finger back and forth between Elsa and Marcus.

"Calm down, Anna," Elsa says as she puts a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "We just got a bit sidetracked. Speaking of that..."

"We found my sister," Marcus says.

"You… what?" Anna asks, clearly confused. "But I thought you said…"

Marcus steps aside, and Rosie comes forward. She gives the startled princess a friendly smile.

"Hello, your highness," Rosie says.

"Uh… hi," Anna says. "And you are…?"

"Oh! Sorry. I'm Rosalie. But everyone calls me Rosie," she says.

"I have decided to let her stay here for the time being," Elsa says to Anna.

"Elsa, have you gone mad?" Anna asks. "I mean, seriously! You were hesitant to let Marcus stay. What makes his sister any different?"

"If it helps my case, apparently we're the same age," Rosie offers.

Anna seems to ponder this for a moment. "What is your thinking on chocolate?"

"It is the best thing to happen to food in the history of mankind."

In that moment, Marcus and Elsa both have the exact same thought running through their minds. _Right answer_.

"You can stay," Anna says with a nod. "Come on! You have to try some of Arendelle's finest hot chocolate!"

"Okay!"

And like that, Rosie is dragged off by a giggling Anna; leaving Marcus and Elsa still standing in front of the castle doors with their jaws on the ground. They exchange looks of surprise with one another, but are interrupted by Kristoff.

"So I was almost trampled by Anna dragging another girl down the hall. Care to explain what the hell is going on?" Kristoff asks.

"Long story short, we found my sister, Rosie. As it turns out, she and Anna are the same age, and share similar opinions of chocolate," Marcus says. "I see my sister for the first time in nine years, and not even ten minutes later, she's dragged off by an enthusiastic princess of Arendelle."

"Ah. Well, knowing Anna, you probably won't see her until morning," Kristoff says with a guilty expression on his face. "Sorry, man."

"Not your fault," Marcus says, shrugging. "I suppose it's better than those two not getting along."

"Good point. Well, I think I'm gonna go say goodnight to Sven," Kristoff says with a yawn and a tired smile. "Nice sparring match today, man. I'll be sure to get you back for that later."

Marcus chuckles. "I look forward to seeing you try."

With a roll of his eyes, Kristoff walks out the door past Elsa and Marcus towards the stables. Marcus holds the door open, even though he doesn't need to, and Elsa passes through it. As they make their way down the palace corridors, Elsa can't help but notice how tense Marcus looks. She intertwines her fingers in his in a gesture she's long since gotten used to with him. He looks at her, but the pained look on his face remains. She decides to wait until they reach his room to bring it up. What he is thinking about is probably not something they should discuss in a less than private setting. When they arrive at Marcus's room, she turns to him.

"I think we need to talk," Elsa says, opening the door to the room.

Marcus shuts it behind him while Elsa takes a seat on his bed. He joins her, and she puts an arm around him.

"What's on your mind?" Elsa asks.

"I just…" Marcus begins. "It's all so unbelievable. Two months ago, I never would have dreamed I'd be where I am now. In a moment of impulsive chivalry, I managed to change my entire life. My best friend is an ice harvester who talks to his pet reindeer and has a princess for a girlfriend, I get hugs from a talking snowman, and we all live in a castle together. I'm a councilman-in-training, for heaven's sake!

"But I have to admit, my life before was pretty dull compared to this. I wouldn't trade it for the world. And I haven't even mentioned the best part to all of this. The best part is that I got to meet and get to know the amazingly beautiful, charming, quirky, spectacular queen of Arendelle. She, above all else, is what makes my life better than I could have ever hoped it would be." The look on his face turns to one of determination. "And I think I might just be in love with her."

Elsa is stunned into silence. _Did he just say he loves me?_ She goes through all of what they've been through together in her head. She thinks of the afternoons they spend reading by candlelight, and the long conversations they have about their favorite books. He makes her laugh more than anyone else. They are open and honest with each other. Marcus brings her out of her shell, and dares her heart to do things she never thought she could. He is impulsive and even reckless at times. He finds passion in everything he does. He is stubborn, yet loyal to an extent she's never seen before. With that thought, Elsa realizes that if she was honest with herself and with him, and said that she loved him, he would never hurt her or give her any reason not to trust him.

"I love you, too," she says in a voice that's barely a whisper. "I'm just so afraid."

"Afraid of your feelings?" Marcus asks, and Elsa nods. "Love will thaw, Elsa. Love isn't what you should fear. There is nothing that you should be scared about. Though I understand why you have these feelings. If love can thaw a frozen heart, then love can mend a broken one, too."

"I sure hope you're right," Elsa says.

"I know I'm right," Marcus says, giving her a sincere smile. "Now come over here."

He opens his arms and she accepts the invitation; burying herself in the strength and warmth she finds in his embrace. Marcus kisses her head, and once again is overwhelmed with the scent of coconut shampoo. He hears her sigh.

"It may be too soon. I don't know," Elsa says. "But the one thing I do know is that there is no turning back. I need to face my fears if I am to accept happiness into my heart. I love you, Marcus."

"I love you, too, my snow queen," he says, wearing a facial expression of pure joy. "My Elsa."

She smiles, and kisses Marcus's lips tenderly. When Elsa pulls away, she sighs.

"I suppose it is time for me to go to bed," she says. "Goodnight, Marcus."

"Goodnight, Elsa. Sweet dreams," he says.

He kisses her knuckles, and she leaves in wordless grace that still takes his breath away. He sighs. _Man, crazy day_, he thinks to himself. Marcus begins preparing to go to sleep for the night; changing into a pair of pajama pants and a sleeveless undershirt. He is just about to crawl into bed when he hears a knock on his door. Without thinking, he allows his guest access into his bedroom. But who comes into his room is not who he thought it would be.

There, Rosie is standing in a green nightgown that was probably salvaged from Anna. Her hair is in a braid resting on her back, and she is barefoot. She gives him a sheepish smile.

"Marcus?"

"Rosie, what are you doing here?" Marcus asks. "I'm happy to see you, but I'm just curious as to why. I didn't think I'd see you until tomorrow morning."

"I was wondering if… maybe… you could read to me tonight? You always used to do it when we were little, and I really missed it," Rosie says, looking anywhere but in the direction of her brother out of embarrassment at her request. "It would probably help me get to sleep. This place is still a little unfamiliar to me."

"Aww, Rosie," he says, opening his arms and giving her a reassuring smile. "I would love to. Come here."

She excitedly makes her way into Marcus's waiting arms, and then crawls into bed next to him. He pulls a book out from the desk of his nightstand; a battered, worn copy of _Beauty and the Beast_ he found a little while ago in the palace library. Rosie grins, and Marcus knows why she's so happy. The tragic and romantic tale of _Beauty and the Beast_ has been her favorite for him to read to her since he learned to do so. In fact, Marcus's enthusiasm to learn to read came only from his desire to read to his baby sister. It was a pleasant secret he kept to himself for years; one that reminded him that the bond he had with his sister was formed the instant she was born. They may have fought, just as brothers and sisters do, and their relationship did have its faults. But Marcus knows without a doubt that he would have it any other way. Especially now that they are reunited, he would gladly argue with Rosie all day if it kept her with him.

Marcus begins reading the story aloud, and Rosie listens eagerly. He has just reached the middle of it when he hears a quiet snore. Looking down, he sees that Rosie has fallen asleep sometime during his reading. He smiles; placing the book down on the nightstand before removing himself from his sister's drowsy embrace. Marcus opens the door, and then goes over to his sleeping sister. He lifts her into his arms bridal style and carries her out the door, shutting it with his foot once he does so. Marcus passes Kai on the way down the hall, and the butler gives him a confused look.

"Kai, do you think you could tell me where Rosie's room is?" Marcus whispers to him. "She fell asleep while I was reading to her."

The butler smiles and nods at Marcus in understanding. "Down the hall, to your left, third door on your right."

"Thanks, Kai."

"You're welcome, milord."

Marcus follows the instructions given to him by the butler, and reaches the door he specified. He opens it with his foot before going into the room with Rosie still in his arms. He places her down on the bed, and pulls the blankets over her sleeping form. With tears in his eyes, he kisses her forehead.

"Goodnight, Marcus," he hears her murmur with a sleepy smile.

"Goodnight, Rosie," he says. "Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Promise?"

"Promise. I love you."

"I love you, too."

And with that, Marcus leaves his sister to sleep; shutting the door quietly behind him.

* * *

**Wow! That took a while! Haha! But aside from that A/N at the beginning, I've got some pretty awesome news to share with you.**

**Tomorrow, April 19****th****, is my birthday. And I want to tell you all how much every single one of you mean to me. I read every single message, review, and whatever other responses come to my writing from you guys. In celebration of my birthday, I would like to offer you all a little something special.**

**Since this story turned out to be a lot more OC-centric than I had originally predicted, and it still got a pretty decent amount of positive feedback, I am going to allow you to review or PM various questions you could have for the OC's I have created. These OC's include people like Marcus, Rosie, Odie, and anyone else who was not in the original movie. I am aware that does not allow Q&A's, but I would think that if you keep your questions directed only towards characters of my own creation, that are in no way associated with Disney, that it might be okay. I only ask that you keep questions at least somewhat appropriate. I plan to include a chapter answering all of these questions in this story. That chapter will have no real relevance to the plot, and as such I will wait to post it until I have a legitimate chapter to publish at the same time. This will give those of you who want to continue just reading the story the option of skipping it. The questions will be answered with the author/reviewer's name they used to ask the question, the question itself, and of course the answer to it. There will be a limit of two questions per person.**

**I look forward to seeing you all soon!**

**-Symphonic Madness**


	9. Chapter 9

**Long chapter! WOOT!**

**That is all! (=**

**-Symphonic Madness**

* * *

Elsa wakes up to the sound of gentle knocking on her bedroom door. _Hmm_, the queen thinks. It isn't the rhythmic rapping that she's associated with Anna, nor is it the deep thump that comes when Kai is at her door. Kristoff typically doesn't go into Elsa's room at all, but when he does he is accompanying Anna, who is the one to do the knocking. Olaf doesn't knock, period, usually preferring to burst into the room without warning. That's a habit both him and Anna have in common, much to the irritation of the woman who calls the room her own. So with all of that in mind, Elsa can't figure out who could possibly want to interrupt her peaceful slumber. She sits up with a wide yawn, and gives her guest permission to enter the room.

Marcus walks in with a sheepish look on his face. _Right_, Elsa thinks sarcastically to herself. _I should have known._ His hair is still damp from bathing earlier, and is combed back behind his ears. He is wearing a pair of black trousers, black boots, a blue tunic, and a black vest to match.

"Good morning, Elsa," he says as he moves to sit on her bed.

"What are you doing up?" Elsa asks, raising an eyebrow. She glances at the nearby grandfather clock. "It's eight in the morning. On a _Saturday_. Usually you aren't even conscious until noon."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration. It's more like ten. Or eleven," Marcus says. When he sees Elsa isn't convinced, he just shrugs. "I guess I've finally gotten used to your schedule."

He leans in and kisses her lips tenderly, but pulls back. He cringes and a dramatic shudder rolls through him. Instantly, Elsa's loving expression turns to one of panic.

"What?!" she asks. "Did I do something wrong?!"

"No! No!" Marcus says quickly. "It's just that you've got horrible morning breath."

"Trust me. You could do a lot worse," Elsa says dryly. "You haven't experienced Anna's morning breath."

Marcus ponders this for a moment. "You've got me there."

"I know I do," Elsa says. "Now get out of here. I have to get ready."

It's then that Marcus really takes in Elsa's appearance. He wonders how he didn't notice it before. Elsa's platinum blonde hair sticks up in all directions; indicating that she either chose not to braid it before bed, or the braid came undone sometime during the night. He decides that this is his new favorite Elsa. It's the Elsa that is barely awake, dressed in nothing but a nightgown and a drowsy, lopsided smile, with her hair a tangled mess and no makeup on. _If it's possible for me to love her any more than I already do_, Marcus thinks to himself, _this probably did the trick_. He even sees a few freckles scattered in various locations across her cheeks and nose. They are not easy to see if she's wearing makeup, but as little as she and her younger sister have in common when it comes to physical traits, the freckles make her look more like Anna than she lets on. As slight as that similarity may be, it's there. Realizing that Elsa is still waiting for a response, Marcus snaps out of his stupor.

"I would like to escort you to breakfast," Marcus says. "But don't you think it would be a bit weird for people walking by to see me standing by your door while I wait for you?"

"I think it's weird that you even woke me up in the first place," Elsa retorts.

"Touché," Marcus says. "But I'm not leaving."

Elsa groans. "Fine. Just cover your eyes. If I catch you with your eyes open even a crack, I will not hesitate to freeze you to the ceiling and leave you there for a while."

"I wouldn't dream of it, your majesty," Marcus says with a smirk.

She bats his arm and gets out of bed. As promised, Marcus turns around and covers his eyes with his hands. He hears the sliding of fabric as she undresses, and he has to suppress a gulp. _Maybe I really should have waited outside_, Marcus internally chastises himself. What he wouldn't give to even catch a glimpse of her bare skin. He secretly wonders if Elsa's freckles can be found in locations other than her face.

"You can turn around now."

In that moment, Marcus couldn't have been more thankful for Elsa's voice snapping him out of his inappropriate daydreaming. He sends a silent prayer up to whoever might be paying attention before turning himself to look at the queen. While Marcus was lost in his thoughts, Elsa had donned a simple, indigo gown with medium-length sleeves, and the same knee-high slit that is found in a decent amount of her outfits. Her hair is woven into her typical over-the-shoulder braid. Marcus sees her begin to apply her makeup, and he isn't happy about it. He gets up and stills her hands with his own to stop her.

"Elsa, you look better without your makeup," he says. "Do you really need it?"

The queen sighs. "Sadly, yes. I do need it. As much as I don't want to, I have to put it on. I don't think we've covered this part of royal protocol in your lessons, so I'm just going to tell you now. It is thought to be rude for a female monarch, a queen especially, to not wear some sort of makeup when outside her private chambers. A queen shows she has respect for those she interacts with if she takes the time to make herself look presentable."

"I still don't like it," Marcus mutters.

"I know," Elsa says. "But I'm only going to apply some eye makeup and a small amount of lipstick. It's less than I normally wear, if that makes you feel better."

"It actually kind of does," Marcus replies. "I guess I'm content with being one of the only people who is lucky enough to see your face without cosmetics. So seeing you with them doesn't bother me too much, I suppose."

"That's the spirit," Elsa says with a smirk.

It doesn't take long for her to complete her morning routine. After applying her eye makeup, she quickly brushes her teeth and puts on a little bit of lipstick. Elsa grins at Marcus as she stands from her seat in front of her vanity. Her eyes have a spark of mischief in them, and Marcus briefly wonders how her mood changed so quickly. He decides to forget about it for now, and see what the queen has up her sleeve.

"I must say, Marcus," Elsa begins coyly. "You look quite dashing in blue."

"I am courting the snow queen, after all. I'd best look the part, shouldn't I?" Marcus says, giving her a devilish smirk. "Have you freshened your breath, my dear?"

Elsa gives him a confused look. "Yes. Why?"

"No reason."

He leans in and captures her lips in a passionate kiss. Elsa returns it with equal fervor, gripping the hair on the back of his head tightly in her fists. Marcus's hands caress her shoulders, then the small of her back, all the way until he reaches the backs of her thighs. With a growl, he hoists her up onto his waist. Elsa gasps, and Marcus prods her lips with the tip of his tongue. She moans, giving him better access to her mouth. He can still taste the mint she used to improve her breath, and it nearly makes him go ballistic.

Marcus carries her to a wall and presses her feverishly against it. He trails his kisses down her neck. He nibbles on her earlobe and Elsa's breathing becomes even more ragged. _I can't fathom where he learned to do this_, Elsa says to herself internally. _But I'll be damned if I find it in me to care right now._ Marcus's lips travel further down to her exposed collarbone; where he places several open-mouthed kisses, but is careful not to leave any noticeable marks.

But then they hear a knock.

"Your majesty, Princess Anna has requested that you and Lord Marcus join her for breakfast in the private dining hall," Kai says from behind the door. "There was no answer at Lord Marcus's door, but I assumed you would know his whereabouts."

Elsa clears her throat and tries to calm her rapid heartbeat. "Lord Marcus and I were just discussing the recently renewed trade contract with Gunstig. Please let Anna know that we will meet shortly."

"Very well, your grace," Kai says. "I will tell her."

"Thank you, Kai."

"You are welcome, your majesty."

Marcus and Elsa share a look, and then burst out laughing. They are in stitches as they pull away from one another.

"Wow!" Marcus exclaims. "That was…"

"A wet blanket?" Elsa offers.

"Precisely, my queen."

"Perhaps it was for the best that we were interrupted," Elsa says with a sigh. "Heaven only knows how far we would have gone if Kai hadn't knocked on my door."

"Elsa," Marcus says seriously. He takes her hands in his. "I don't think we would have. I believe in your judgment strong enough to know that you would have stopped us before things got too intense. And if you didn't, I would have. I know how horrible you'd feel if we got carried away. And I would never _ever_ put you through that."

Elsa thinks about this, seeming to have an internal battle with herself, before she responds. "Thank you, Marcus. But I think it might be a wise choice for me to make some minor adjustments to my appearance. I think it was altered a bit during our… passion. In fact, it looks like my lipstick managed to smear onto your lips, as well."

Marcus's eyes widen in panic, and he looks in the floor length mirror nearby. Elsa bursts out in a fit of laughter that would make a hyena jealous. Marcus is vigorously rubbing a cloth to his lips, but it does more harm than good. His lips are now raw from the scrubbing he just gave them. Recovering from her laughter, Elsa fixes her hair, and applies more lipstick.

"Are you ready?" she asks him with a smirk.

"As I'll ever be…"

"Here. Hold on."

Elsa approaches him and adjusts his clothing. She pulls away, inspecting her handiwork. Feeling satisfied, she locks her arm with Marcus's.

"Now, let's go meet our sisters."

Marcus can't help it when his heart flutters with pride at Elsa's statement. He still can't believe he is finally reunited with his sister. It is something he never thought would happen, and he is overjoyed that it has. And as he walks with Elsa to the dining hall, he is overwhelmed with gratitude at his fortune. All because of a brief moment of impulsivity, the isolated life he lived as a vagabond lumberjack turned into something far more spectacular than he could have ever hoped.

They reach the dining room soon thereafter, and the first thing Marcus notices is that Rosie's appearance has changed significantly. She is no longer the rugged tomboy she was the previous night. Instead, she looks like a girl her age. She is wearing a summer dress that is a light shade of red, and her hair is combed neatly into a ponytail that descends down her back. Rosie and Anna are chattering with an enthusiasm that poor Kristoff doesn't look like he can keep up with. Even Olaf is an active participant in the discussion between the two girls. Anna must have already introduced him to Rosie, seeing as she doesn't appear to have any trepidation about interacting with the snowman.

Elsa clears her throat, alerting all of the room's occupants to her presence. As they do at every meal they share together, the other people at the table stand up. Marcus pulls Elsa's chair out for her, and pushes it in when she sits. He takes a seat at her left, and the rest of the group follows suit.

"By the way, Rosie," Marcus says. "I'm sorry about your horse. I didn't think it would take off so quickly."

"Eh. It's not that big of a deal," she says with a shrug. Her expression turns sheepish. "I… um… sorta stole it, anyway."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Elsa says.

"Whoops! Uh... man, how am I gonna get out of this one?" Rosie mutters to herself.

"You won't have to. As I said, I'm going to look the other way this time. The last thing you need is to be put in jail for just stealing a horse."

Both Rosie and Marcus shoot Elsa grateful smiles. She returns the gesture, and conversation continues.

"That's a lovely dress you're wearing, Rosie," Elsa says. "I can't help but wonder how you acquired it, though."

"Anna loaned it to me," Rosie says. "She gave me a couple more besides this one, along with a couple of nightgowns and some shoes. Regretfully, I didn't bring that much clothing with me other than what I wore when I originally left. I was on the move nonstop for close to four days before I found my brother. I wasn't able to change my clothes, or even get a decent bath that entire trip. I can't tell you how good it felt to bathe and put on a clean nightgown."

"It wasn't that surprising, really," Anna says. "I don't know how you did it."

"It wasn't easy. That's for sure," Rosie says.

"No kidding. But I plan to schedule the tailor to come and take some of your measurements. Hopefully, he will be able to provide some clothes for you," Anna tells her.

"Thank you, Anna," Rosie says with a smile. "And I must give thanks to everyone else, as well. You are all so hospitable and kind. It is something I am immensely grateful for."

"It's no trouble, really," Elsa says. "We are happy you and Marcus have been reunited. And if we allowed you to sleep in a haystack or some dingy tavern inn, it would be extremely rude of us."

"But I would like to speak with my brother about something, of course," Rosie says, turning her gaze from Elsa to Marcus. "I have a lot of questions to ask you over the course of today, Marcus. But there is one that I have been dying to ask since I got here."

Rosie and Anna share a smirk, and Marcus gulps in fear. "And that would be?"

"That was a very manly crack in your voice you just had there, Marcus," Rosie says. "But my question is this: what, exactly, is going on between you and Queen Elsa? Oh, and don't try to lie to me. I have other methods of finding out."

"Frankly, I'm surprised Anna hasn't already told you," Elsa says, raising an eyebrow at her sister. "I would have thought she already informed you of my status with Marcus."

"Yeah. I've never known Anna to have any sort of verbal filter. I'm just wondering what has changed in the last twenty-four hours," Marcus says.

"First of all, mark my words, Marcus. You're gonna pay for that later. And it won't be pretty," Anna says, giving him a look that promises retribution. She turns her gaze to Elsa. "Second of all, my dear sister, I figured it would be best if you and Marcus were the ones to announce this to Rosie. If not for the fact that it would be polite, then for the looks on your faces when it ends up being the first thing she asks you."

"So, with that said, you never answered my question," Rosie says. "So tell me, brother, exactly how you feel about Elsa."

"Well…" Marcus nervously glances around the table, his eyes landing on Elsa last. She gives him a small smile and a nod, and he continues. "I really like her. Love her, even. And for reasons that are still baffling to me, she feels the same way. Or at least I would hope."

"I suppose it is safe to say I do feel the same way," Elsa says.

"It's hard not to. What with my rugged good looks and vast knowledge on Arendellian political matters," Marcus boasts, puffing his chest out to further prove his point.

A few servants come out with trays of food. They set them down in front of the people of the table, Olaf being the exception, of course. They exit with a bow, and conversation resumes.

Elsa shoots a small burst of ice at Marcus, hitting him in the stomach and making him yelp in pain. "Marcus, I hope you realize that before we got you a haircut, your 'rugged good looks' were practically nonexistent. Frankly, you looked like a caveman when we first took you in. And don't get too full of yourself on your 'vast knowledge on Arendellian politics', either. In case you're forgetting, I taught you all you know about that particular subject, and I will continue to teach you. Because you're not quite ready to be inducted into my council just yet. Almost, but not quite."

The rest of the occupants of the table are stunned into silence. Marcus and Olaf wear expressions of pure shock, while Kristoff and Rosie just look amused. Elsa wears a victorious smirk, and while Anna tries to conceal how humorous she found Elsa's blunt rant, she is not successful. In the end, her composure cracks, and breaks into a fit of barely contained, howling laughter. Kristoff and Rosie join in almost simultaneously, with Olaf following suit shortly after. Marcus and Elsa share a look, and soon, they join the others in their laughter.

"Wow, Elsa!" Anna exclaims. "Way to knock Marcus down a peg! I didn't know you had that in you! That was almost cruel!"

"The truth can be that way sometimes," she says, smirking at Marcus.

That just makes them all laugh harder. It takes them all a moment or two, but eventually, they compose themselves enough to begin eating. A few minutes of silence pass before Marcus finally addresses what's been nagging at the back of his mind since he was reunited with his sister.

"Rosie, when are you going to tell me about what happened all those years ago?" he asks. As if a switch was flipped, Marcus's facial expression turns frustrated and angry. "This is something you used to do when you were little. You use any means necessary to further postpone telling the truth to people. Something is always preventing you from being honest about what is going on. You are an excellent actress, Rosie. And despite being separated from you for almost a decade, I still know you better than anyone else. And I can still see through that God forsaken mask that you are so determined to keep wearing."

"Fine!" Rosie snaps as she slams her fists onto the table. "You want to know why I've been trying to keep it from you, Marcus? Do you?!"

"Yes!" he shouts, causing a few worried glances to pass between the other people at the table.

"Have you ever thought that maybe I'm just happy to see you again?" Rosie asks with tears in her eyes. "I've finally found you again, Marcus! If I had told you about my past right from the start, our reunion would not have been a happy memory in my mind. It would not have been as wonderful and joyful as it turned out to be. It would have been full of the grief, the anguish, and the uncertainty that comes from what we've gone through these past years.

"And you don't think I've got questions, too? There are numerous things about your past that I'm still curious about! Hell, I've probably got more to feel confused about than you do! But I wanted to enjoy your company as long as I possibly could before we discuss all the horrible things that we've gone through these nine years. There! You happy?! I sure hope so! Excuse me, your majesty, but I'm afraid I must depart from breakfast early. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of it."

Wordlessly, Rosie gets up from her chair and rushes out of the dining room. Marcus feels as if an arrow was just shot into his heart. He puts his head in his hands, and a few tears slip from his eyes.

"Uh… I'm gonna go back to my igloo in the courtyard for a little while," Olaf says awkwardly.

The snowman plops down from his chair and waddles away in the opposite direction that Rosie went. Marcus gets up from his seat.

"I have to go talk to her," he says.

"No, Marcus. Let her go," Anna says, her voice holding more wisdom and understanding than Marcus thought possible. "Give her time. It's been an emotional morning."

Elsa nods in agreement. "Anna is right. It has been an emotional morning. Not just for you two, but for all of us. Perhaps it would be best to drop the issue for now, and let her come to us when she's ready."

"But what if she leaves the palace?" Marcus asks. "I just got my sister back. I don't think I could handle losing her again."

"She probably feels the same way," Kristoff interjects. "I don't think Rosie will take off. If the bond between you two is as strong as it looks, she won't just get up and leave after finally seeing you for the first time in nine years. Take it from me, man. I've spent a huge amount of time watching Anna and Elsa interact with one another. They are almost polar opposites in personality, and bicker like there's no tomorrow. Eventually, though, they make amends and it's as if the disagreement never happened, and they're best friends again. If observing them has taught me anything about siblings, it's that siblings always fight. But no matter what happens between them, they will always come through for one another in the end. Anna would die to save Elsa, which is unfortunately what ended up happening. And both girls would do it again for one another in a heartbeat if there was ever another situation where that sort of sacrifice was necessary. To put it simply, Rosie loves you, Marcus. And I know you love her, too. I highly doubt she'd leave after one fight."

Marcus sighs, but then a small grin forms on his face. "That was a nice piece of wisdom. I'll be sure to think about it. I'm just surprised it came from you."

Kristoff shrugs and matches Marcus's grin. "Don't be so shocked. I have picked up a little bit of Elsa's wisdom, you know. After living with her and Anna as long as I have, you tend to acquire some of their same traits and habits."

"Indeed it would make sense," Elsa says. "But Kristoff is right, Marcus. As many fights as you and Rosie may have, your love for one another will never fade. She will always be your lovable little sister, and you'll always be the big brother she seems to idolize so much."

"I suppose you have a point," Marcus says. "It might be the fact that I've forgotten much of what I once knew about being a part of a family, but you all seem to have a lot more knowledge on that subject than I do."

"Of course we do," Anna says with a wide smile. "We _are_ a family. Me, Olaf, Elsa, Kristoff, and even you, Marcus. We look out for one another. When one of us is in pain, all of us feel it. And we do everything we can to help each other through it. Elsa and I may be the only ones that are family by blood. But it isn't blood that makes a family. It's love."

"And honestly, Anna, I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am to be a part of it," Marcus says, looking earnestly at the people around him. "As dysfunctional and crazy as this family may be, I couldn't imagine life without it."

"Aw! Come on, everybody! Group hug!" Anna exclaims.

"Did someone say hug?!" Olaf asks, bounding into the room again. "I came back to see if everything was okay, and I heard the word 'hug'! I hope you haven't started without me!"

Anna chuckles. "No, Olaf. We haven't started yet. Come in, everyone. Let's show Marcus how group hugs are really done!"

Elsa, Marcus, Kristoff, Anna, and Olaf all congregate on the floor near the table; making sure to get low enough so the snowman can participate easier. Anna orders Marcus to get in the middle of them, seeing as he is the one who needs it the most. Without question, he does as he is told. Elsa and Anna hug him from either side, with Olaf squeezing past Anna and hugging Marcus's waist, and Kristoff crouching behind him and hugging all of them close in his long arms. A moment passes, and they all break away.

"I know just what we need," Anna says. "Elsa, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Elsa grins. "Snowman building in the ballroom?"

"Exactly," Anna says, matching her sister's grin. "But listen, I'm gonna go try and talk some sense into Rosie. I'll see if she wants to join us."

"But…" Marcus tries to say, but Anna interrupts him.

"Marcus, she just fought with you. As much as I hate to tell you this, you are probably the last person she wants to see right now," she says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She might just need some girl time. I would suggest that Elsa go, but one: you need her for the snow. And two: Elsa, your social skills when dealing with members of the same sex still need some work."

"I would say her social skills with the _opposite_ sex still need some work, too," Marcus teases.

Elsa scoffs, looking at Marcus with an expression of bafflement and annoyance. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

"You sure thought I had good social skills this morning in my room," Elsa quips. "How did you go from _that_ to remarks about my lack of social grace?"

"_That_, my queen, is exactly why your social skills outside the council chambers are inadequate," Marcus says with a grin. "You just blurted the real reason behind our tardiness this morning to your younger sister, a talking snowman, and an ice harvester; all of whom are going to give us an earful about it eventually."

Elsa curses under her breath, and Anna laughs. "Don't worry, Elsa. I think our system of 'don't ask, don't tell' works just fine for these sorts of things."

"On the other hand," Kristoff says, giving Marcus a wicked grin. "I have every intention of confronting Marcus about the whole situation."

Elsa and Anna give them both lethal glares. They gulp. The message is clear. _Say another word, and it will be the last thing you do._

"Both of you, get in the ballroom. You, too, Olaf," Anna orders. "Elsa will be with you shortly. I expect you to wait patiently and make _appropriate_ conversation with one another until then. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Anna," Marcus and Kristoff mutter.

"Good. Now get in there. I need to talk with my sister," Anna barks. They don't move right away, and Anna nods at Elsa. She zaps them both in the rear end with a streak of ice. "I said move it!"

With startled yelps, the three of them dash in the direction of the ballroom. The girls shake their heads, smiling fondly at the men they have come to love so dearly. Anna turns to Elsa and raises an eyebrow.

"So what was going on this morning that was important enough to make you and Marcus late to breakfast?" she asks, the slightest hint of a smirk forming on her face.

"I… um…" Elsa mumbles. "Wait. Why do I need to tell you? You look like you've got it all figured out as it is."

"Not really. You still haven't told me how good of a kisser he is," Anna says devilishly.

"Anna!" Elsa exclaims, horrified.

"Nope! You're gonna tell me. I'm not gonna let you leave until you do," Anna says.

She crosses her arms over her chest stubbornly, and Elsa sighs. "Fine."

"So," Anna begins excitedly. "How is he?"

Elsa sighs again, knowing she won't get out of this by underplaying things. "He's… well… better than you might think. He just… I don't even know. He knows a lot more about that sort of thing than I ever gave him credit for. He knows a lot more than me, for sure."

"That's good to hear," Anna says with a smirk. "I doubt you want me to respond with something about how well Kristoff can kiss, though. So I'm satisfied with just hearing things from your perspective."

"You're right. I really don't," Elsa says, grimacing at the thought of her sister doing anything more than the chaste kisses she indulges in while in public. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but I would like to remain unaware of what exactly goes on between you two when I'm not within earshot."

"That's probably a wise decision," Anna says. When Elsa raises a curious eyebrow, she is quick to change the subject. "But anyway, you should probably head to the ballroom. The boys are waiting."

"I probably should, shouldn't I?" Elsa says with a wistful sigh. She lets a small smile grace her features before continuing. "Please try to help Rosie. Marcus is hurt and upset that she hasn't told him her past yet, and maybe if you get her to see things from his perspective, they'll be able to get past this. I hope you realize how much we are all counting on you."

"I do, Elsa," Anna says. "Go. I'll meet you in a little while. I love you."

"I love you, too."

With that, the sisters leave in opposite directions from one another. Elsa makes her way to the ballroom and arrives a moment later. When she enters the room, Olaf, Marcus, and Kristoff notice immediately; their stances becoming so rigid they almost resemble soldiers. Elsa shakes her head and smiles fondly.

"At ease, gentlemen," Elsa teases. "Now let's get started."

She throws her hands up, and a blanket of snow and ice covers the floor instantly. They begin their work, but it isn't long before Kristoff clears his throat; getting the attention of Elsa, Marcus, and Olaf.

"Um… Elsa?" Kristoff says shyly from behind his shaggy bangs. "I have a favor to ask of you, if you would. It's pretty important."

"Of course, Kristoff," Elsa says, smiling slightly at Kristoff. "What is it?"

"Well, I was sort of thinking…" Kristoff pauses to take a deep breath. "I want to ask Anna to marry me. I have the ring already. But I feel that it wouldn't be right for me to do it without talking to you about it first. So I ask you, Queen Elsa, to give Anna and me your blessing to wed."

Elsa is taken aback by his request, but it isn't entirely surprising. Kristoff's sincerity and respect for her wishes and for Anna's is what makes the queen's smile broaden into an enormous, face-splitting grin.

"Kristoff," Elsa begins. "Do you love my sister?"

"With every fiber of my being," he answers.

The confidence in his immediate response encourages Elsa to continue. "And you honestly question whether or not I see that?"

Kristoff is rendered speechless. "Um…"

"Kristoff, with the way you two look at one another, you would have to be blind not to see that what you have is real. I can see it in everything you do that your love for her is strong and true. And I can see the same in Anna. I'm not usually one to believe in the theory of soul mates. But after seeing you and Anna, I am starting to believe it more and more. You two are soul mates. Of that, I have absolutely no doubt," Elsa says. "So, with that said, I am pleased to give you the answer you were hoping for. Kristoff, nothing would make me happier than to grant you my blessing on your engagement to my sister."

Kristoff feels his heart swell in happiness and pride, and nearly tackles the queen in a tight embrace. "Thank you, Elsa. Thank you so much."

"There is no need to thank me. But I do have a question for you," she says. "What were you planning on doing to propose to Anna?"

"Honestly, I really have no idea," Kristoff says sheepishly. "I've been thinking about it, but I figured I would ask you for your blessing before making any major plans. But now that I have it, I'm still at a loss for what I should do."

"I think I have an idea," Elsa says with a conspiratorial grin. "Marcus, Olaf, get over here. We will need all of you to make this work."

Kristoff, Marcus, and Olaf all gather around Elsa, and listen with peaked interest and excitement. Olaf's enthusiasm is not easily controlled, but the rest of the group somehow manage to calm him down.

"Marcus," Elsa says after she reveals her plan. "I've got Anna talking to Rosie right now. She will hopefully help us pull this off. The next time she comes in here, I would like you to hold back in asking her about her past. At least until after Kristoff proposes. We will need her to assist us. So perhaps it would be best to postpone asking questions for now. You two need to enjoy being together in happiness again. Even if it's only for a few days. So I ask that you swallow your pride, and ask Rosie for her help. I'm positive that Anna is asking Rosie to do the same thing."

Marcus sighs. "I suppose you're right. She might just want to enjoy being with me again. And I don't blame her. So I will drop the issue for now. Plus, I would hate to have Kristoff's proposal ruined by my drama. It wouldn't be right."

"No," Kristoff says. "It wouldn't. I'm glad you see that. And thank you, Elsa, Marcus, and Olaf. I don't think I would be able to do this without you."

"Oh, come on, ya big sap!" Marcus exclaims, trapping Kristoff in his signature headlock. "Don't go all sentimental on me. Save that for your bride-to-be!"

"Quit it!" Kristoff says as he attempts to escape from Marcus's grip. "Anna warned us about roughhousing!"

As if on cue, the door opens, and the princess in question steps into the room. Rosie is standing beside her soon thereafter; staring dumbfounded at the winter wonderland Elsa created. Anna and Elsa share a look. Elsa takes Marcus's hand and drags him in the direction of his sister, while Anna does the same with Rosie. Soon, the two siblings are standing in front of one another, both flanked by the princess and the queen. Elsa roughly shoves Marcus's shoulder, and he takes that as his cue to speak.

"Rosie, I know you are upset with me," he says. "It's just that… I mean… I've spent years wondering what happened to you. I never knew if you were alive or dead. It gnawed at me for years. But I understand why you are hesitant to tell me these things at the moment. You're right. Our reunion is a happy one. It should stay that way. Plus, I know how painful it can be to divulge into your past with someone. It's a horrible experience, and believe me when I say that telling Elsa was probably the most excruciating thing I've ever done. So I am going to let you reveal your past to me when and only when you feel you're ready. I'm so sorry for snapping at you."

"Thank you, Marcus," Rosie says, offering her brother an affectionate smile. "And I understand why you got upset. So I'm sorry, too. Friends?"

"_Best_ friends," Marcus affirms.

The siblings embrace, and it's as if no conflict ever occurred. Marcus puts aside his curiosity, and Rosie puts aside her anger. Overall, it turns out to be a rather amazing day.

* * *

**Phew! 6,083 words! That took forever! And I've got some 'splainin' to do. I know.**

**By the way, I just saw **_**Tangled**_** for the first time about a week ago, and I wrote almost this entire chapter while listening to "I See the Light". I'm starting to understand why people often associate the characters from **_**Frozen**_** and **_**Tangled**_** with each other. That, and I noticed that Rapunzel had a cameo during the song "For the First Time in Forever". Seriously. Look it up.**

**The reasoning behind Rosie's past not being revealed quite yet was said in this chapter. And sadly, it won't be revealed until a little bit later. I've grown rather attached to these characters (both the canon ones and my own OC's). And I don't want Rosie and Marcus to have a painful reunion, especially when Kristoff is about to ask Anna to marry him. I think I'm going to allow some time to pass in bliss before shattering Marcus and Rosie's very integrity.**

**But, you see, I've come across a very peculiar predicament. I don't quite have an idea as to what could have happened to Rosie in her past, nor do I have one about how the characters should help Kristoff pull off a grand marriage proposal. None of you took me up on my offer to ask my OC's questions (which I'm actually quite thankful for, seeing as my schedule is overflowing as it is). So I have another little contest thing for you.**

**If you have any ideas about Rosie's past, and/or how Kristoff could propose, I would love to hear it. Leave a review, or Private Message me any ideas you may have. I will consider all suggestions, and use it in future chapters. I may make minor changes to certain parts of these ideas, and I may even use more than one. But credit will be given to whomever deserves it, as well as a crushing internet hug. Happy brainstorming!**

**Symphonic Madness**


	10. Chapter 10

The group, minus Anna of course, agreed to wait two days to put their plan in place. Two days, Elsa figured, would be enough time for her to make the proper arrangements, and for the rest of them to do the tasks she assigned for them.

Marcus and Kristoff were to go out and explore the terrain in search of a possible location for the proposal to take place. Marcus spoke fondly of a clearing in the forest. In the clearing was a large expanse of lush grass, and a body of water that wasn't quite a lake, but wasn't quite a pond, either. This body had an old, abandoned dock with a decaying rowboat resting on the shore beside it. When the two men reached the area, however, they found the boat was in horrible condition, and could not be used safely.

Rosie, Elsa, and Olaf opted to stay behind during this particular journey. Elsa chose to talk to the palace workers about the events that were to take place within these next few days. She gave them all strict orders to keep Anna distracted and unaware of what was going on around her, using any means necessary to do so. Rosie volunteered to plan the meal, and help Kristoff cook it. It was no idea of Elsa's to have her do this, but Rosie insisted that it would hold a lot more meaning if the dinner was cooked by Kristoff himself. When the mountain man bashfully admitted he knew little about cooking, Rosie was appalled. She made it her mission to teach Kristoff how to cook. Much to Rosie's pleasure, he was a swift learner, and her assistance was needed less than she had originally estimated it would be. Olaf took it upon himself to aid the staff in their distraction of Anna. His childlike innocence became an invaluable asset to the rest of the group, and Kristoff knew he would probably be indebted to the snowman for years to come.

Elsa, who had found a lot more time than she first thought she would, decided that she had to oversee Kristoff's appearance. The day of the picnic, Rosie, Olaf, Marcus, and Elsa worked together to keep the two lovers separated. Rosie and Olaf awoke Anna early that morning for a shopping rendezvous in town. Fifteen minutes later, Elsa and Marcus forcibly dragged Kristoff out of bed. Well, it was Marcus who did most of the grunt work in waking the mountain man, but when he still protested, Elsa dropped a large snowball on his bare back. It did the trick, and Kristoff was whisked away by the queen and her consort to prepare for the day. While Elsa barked orders at the tailor about the dress clothes he had in stock, Marcus did the same with Kristoff about how _not_ to screw things up with Anna.

Following up on Anna's request, a tailor came and took Rosie's measurements. He returned no more than a day later with an armful of dresses, shoes, and nightgowns. There were even a couple of pairs of trousers and a few tunics thrown into the mix, despite the tailor's reluctance to provide them. Though Rosie came from a noble background, and was expected to dress the part, her tomboyish personality often reigned supreme one way or another.

When Elsa glided into his room with a brown package in hand, Kristoff had gulped. It wasn't until she revealed a neatly pressed, crisp set of clothes that Kristoff's nerves were truly at their peak. Despite frequent reassurance from Elsa that things would go okay, he still felt nervous and on edge. In response, the queen took him into her lithe arms and hugged him tightly. It was a gesture he was not accustomed to, but it wasn't unwanted. He had returned the hug, and Elsa gave him a warm smile before leaving to fetch Rosie for his cooking lesson.

* * *

Kristoff is pacing anxiously back and forth by the front entrance of the castle. Marcus and Rosie, who are watching the scene, give the ice harvester curious looks. Marcus shakes his head with a chuckle.

"You know, if you keep pacing like that, you're gonna make a rut in the floor," he teases. "Then you _really_ won't impress Anna. I'm not so sure that Elsa will be happy, either."

"Marcus!" Rosie chastises, swatting his arm. "He's just nervous! And who could blame him?" her expression turns mischievous as she looks at her brother, who matches her expression. "After all, he's finally upgrading to a nicer leash."

Marcus and Rosie erupt in howls of laughter, to which Kristoff rolls his eyes. "Oh perfect. The school children are at it again. For being adults, you two sure seem to act like you're only ten years old."

"And a half," Rosie says.

She and Marcus burst out laughing again, and Kristoff grunts in exasperation. Just as he is about to come back with something witty, he hears the sound of gentle footsteps.

"Hey, guys! Shut up! I think they're coming!" Kristoff says in a frustrated whisper.

Rosie clears her throat and stifles her giggles. Marcus takes a bit longer to do the same, but with a shove from his sister, he manages to stop. The sight before the three of them isn't anything too unusual, seeing as it is just Elsa. Marcus, as always, is taken aback by her beauty and her grace. She makes her way down the staircase and joins Marcus at his right side. He puts an arm around her waist, and she returns the gesture. Elsa turns her warm gaze to Kristoff.

"She will be here soon," she tells him. "And just so you know, she looks breathtaking. But she doesn't think so. You _will_ prove her wrong. The kind reassurance of an older sister can only do so much in easing the insecurities of a nineteen year-old girl."

"I don't think that will be too much of a problem," Rosie says with a knowing smirk.

The girl nods her head in the direction of the stairs, and it's as if all coherent thoughts in the room come to a screeching halt. Anna is making her way down the stairs in a gown that could pass as formal, yet there is a simplicity about the hues of cerulean and violet that give it the illusion of being somewhat casual. Kristoff mentally goes through what little Marcus taught him about complimenting the opposite sex, seeing as his previous knowledge just flew out the window. He surprises his friends as well as himself with what ends up coming out.

"I don't often see you in blue," Kristoff says. With more confidence, he continues. "It's nice. You look… nice? Err… beautiful? Wait… what?"

Elsa, Marcus, and Rosie all fight the urge to groan in frustration, while Kristoff tries his hardest not to start banging his head on the wall. Marcus gives Kristoff a look that says something along the lines of, _you're hopeless_. Kristoff's response is a deadpanned expression and a barely audible sigh. Despite the awkwardness of Kristoff's feeble attempt at a compliment, Anna giggles.

"Thanks, Kristoff," she says. "I appreciate it. You don't look too bad, either."

Kristoff gives her a relieved smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Anna says. "Shall we be going?"

"Our steed awaits," Kristoff says with a grin.

"Lead the way."

With that, Kristoff picks up the picnic basket and blanket, and intertwines his hand with Anna's as they make their exit. The doors close with a boom, and the room's occupants can hear the muffled sound of clattering hooves. Marcus, Elsa, and Rosie all release the breath they didn't know they were holding. The three of them share a look, and the message is clear. _It's go time_.

"I will have two horses prepared for us. Marcus and I will take one, while Rosie will take the other," Elsa tells her companions. "Unless, of course, either one of you disagrees?"

"I'm okay with that," Marcus says. "Though I must warn you now. I'm not the best when it comes to horseback riding. So you're gonna have to take the reins, Elsa."

She raises an eyebrow in mild surprise, but it passes quickly. "That's fine. Put on something dark, though. The last thing we want is to be seen until the time is right. We must move quickly. At the speed Sven runs, they could arrive at the clearing in a matter of minutes. I will meet you both in the courtyard with the horses shortly."

The trio disbands, with each person going in different directions. Elsa orders a servant to ready two of the castle stallions, and dons a black cloak. Throwing the hood up over her head, she makes her way to the courtyard. As promised, Marcus and Rosie are already waiting for her when she arrives a minute later. Two young servants stand nearby, holding onto the reins of two magnificent stallions. One of them is mostly black, with patches of white in various places along its body. The other is just black, with no other coloring on its pelt.

"We will return soon with Ice Master Kristoff and Princess Anna," Elsa says to them. "Thank you for your service. You are dismissed."

"You're welcome, your majesty," they say simultaneously.

They bow in unison before handing the reins of both steeds to Elsa. She hands the reins of the black and white horse to Rosie, and motions for Marcus to pull himself to sit the saddle of the plain black one. Once Marcus is mounted, he helps Elsa do the same. She takes her place in front of him as Rosie mounts her own steed. When everyone looks to be comfortable, Elsa speaks.

"Are you ready?" she asks.

Marcus and Rosie respond with affirmative nods, and Elsa snaps the reins. The horses break into a run, swiftly beginning the trek. When they get close to the clearing, Elsa stops her horse. Rosie follows suit as Elsa hops off of the saddle and lands gracefully on the ground. Her actions are repeated by Marcus and his sister. They tie their horses to a nearby tree, moving in the direction of their destination. But Elsa and Rosie only take two steps before Marcus stops them.

"Anna has hearing like a bat," Marcus whispers. "If we are to remain hidden, we've got to take our shoes off. It will make our steps quieter."

"Good idea," Rosie says. "Shoes off, everyone."

The three of them each remove their footwear; Marcus clumsily pulling off his boots, while Elsa and Rosie face no difficulty in slipping off their ballet flats and putting them by their horses. Once all parties are barefoot, they begin the short trip to the edge of the clearing. Marcus, who had explored the terrain the previous day, takes a position at the front of the line so he can guide the women behind him. When they reach the clearing, Elsa, Rosie, and Marcus remain at its edge; close enough to see what is going on and intervene if necessary, yet far enough away that they are out of sight for the time being.

"It looks like they just got done setting everything up," Rosie says. "Let's just pray that the oaf doesn't mess up… much."

They turn their attention back to the scene unfolding them as Kristoff pulls out a bottle of champagne. Anna gasps excitedly.

"I hope you realize that Elsa would kill you if she knew I was drinking this," Anna says.

Elsa shoots Marcus a glare, but he puts his hands up and gestures to Rosie. The girl has a guilty smile on her face.

"The three of us are gonna have to have a talk after this," Elsa whispers harshly.

"It's just a little champagne, Elsa," Rosie tells her. "A small amount during a romantic picnic isn't that bad for you."

Elsa sighs. "Fine."

The picnic continues on without a hitch. Kristoff, much to his own surprise, finds that as the evening progresses, his nerves diminish. Soon, the food is gone, and Anna has only consumed about half a glass of champagne. While it's a relief to Elsa that her sister was not too intoxicated, Kristoff wishes he hadn't done the same. Anna asks him to join her on the dock, and Kristoff's previous feelings of anxiety return full force. _Maybe if you had more to drink, you wouldn't be acting like such a bumbling idiot_, Kristoff chastises himself. He gets up and follows Anna to the dock, but there is only one thing on his mind. He has to do this now. Kristoff reaches into his pocket for the ring box, not really paying attention to where he's going.

Mistake.

In his feeble attempts at retrieving the ring, Kristoff doesn't notice the nail sticking out of the wooden dock. It catches on his pant leg, making him fall off the edge of the dock and into the water with a surprised yelp. Elsa, Rosie, and Marcus all wince at their friend's misfortune. Anna, on the other hand, is in stitches of laughter.

"Anna," Kristoff tries to say.

It doesn't work, and Anna keeps on laughing. He tries again, but it ends in the same result. After a few more attempts at gaining Anna's attention, Kristoff groans in exasperation. Throwing all hopes of a romantic proposal out the window, still standing in the water, he shouts.

"Marry me!"

That did the trick. "What?"

Kristoff takes a deep breath to calm himself. "I love you, Anna. Will you marry me?"

Tears form in Anna's eyes, and she squeals in delight. "Yes, Kristoff! Yes! I will marry you!"

Anna gets up and jumps into the water, landing with a decent-sized splash beside Kristoff. Marcus, Rosie, and Elsa cry out in mutual joy at what they just witnessed. Elsa take this as her cue to begin the snow fireworks. She, Rosie, and Marcus all step out from their hiding spots, shed their cloaks, and then watch as Elsa puts on a spectacular show. The sky is alive with bursts of flurries and ice that rain down on the land; covering it in a shallow dusting of snow and ice. Rosie, in a moment of pure elation, runs and jumps off the dock and into the water below. Sven happily follows suit, making an enormous splash when he hits the water's surface.

Marcus gives Elsa a devilish smirk, and her eyes widen in horror. "Oh no you don't!"

He ignores her warning, lifting her into his arms bridal style. She swats at his shoulders and chest, screaming and pleading with him to let her go as he runs down the dock. Marcus jumps into the water with Elsa still in his arms. She resurfaces, gasping for air as her clothes and hair cling to her skin. She shoots him a lethal glare.

"You bastard!" Elsa screeches. "Why on God's green earth did you do that?!"

Marcus shrugs. "I thought you might like to take a dip in the water."

Elsa moves to do something that could possibly cause him permanent physical damage, but Anna's arms around her halt her attempts.

"Oh, Elsa! Isn't this exciting?!" Anna gushes.

"I. Will. Kill. Him," Elsa seethes through clenched teeth.

"Can you please put aside your bloodlust for Marcus for one second and celebrate this?" Anna asks. "Just enjoy this with me. _Then_ you can do as you please with Marcus."

"No need," Rosie says cheerfully. "I've got it."

Rosie swims over to her brother and dunks his head under the water. She holds it for a few seconds, and then releases him. She gives Elsa a thumbs up, but it doesn't last long. Soon, she and Marcus are fighting as if they are children. Anna and Elsa roll their eyes, and look at one another. That's when Elsa can't hold back anymore. She takes Anna into her arms and locks her in a tight embrace.

"I am so proud of you," Elsa murmurs.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Anna asks. "I mean, with the way you reacted to my so-called 'engagement' to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and all…"

"Anna," Elsa says, turning her sister's head to meet her eyes. "Before all of this even happened, Kristoff asked me for my approval on the engagement. And I was more than happy to give it to him."

The two sisters increase the tightness of their hug, and then pull away to watch what's going on around them. Kristoff had joined in Rosie and Marcus's roughhousing, and is currently the victim of a tight, unrelenting headlock from Rosie. Marcus, for his part, is cheering for Kristoff to free himself. Elsa pulls away from her sister, and goes over to stand by Marcus. The water is just deep enough that its surface touches the base of her chest, yet she finds that moving through it is surprisingly easy. The sky, no longer filled with Elsa's fireworks, is now lit in a brilliant display of the Northern Lights. As the colors dance across the sky, Marcus and Elsa look at one another; a tender smile meets one of absolute adoration, caring eyes meet ones of pure, uncensored commitment. The moment is even more beautiful than the lights themselves, even though no words are said. Finally, Elsa speaks again.

"I always hoped Anna would find someone like Kristoff," she says. "I truly believe that they are soul mates."

"I would agree with that," Marcus tells her. "To me, the term 'soul mates' can be defined as two people who are two halves of the same whole. Something I was taught in a Greek mythology lesson my mother made me endure years ago can probably be traced as the source of that opinion.

"The story starts by saying that Zeus, the god of gods, originally created humans with two pairs of eyes, two noses, two mouths, and so on; but still possessing one soul. But once he did, he feared them to be too powerful. So he separated us into two separate beings, and split the soul in half. And in turn, he doomed mankind to spend our lives searching for the one who will complete us, and make us whole again.

"And honestly, based on the circumstances that Kristoff and Anna were in when they met, it makes perfect sense. One wasn't searching, and the other thought she had found it with someone else, and yet somehow they managed to find happiness and completion in one another. When it was least expected, two halves of the same soul found each other."

Elsa is momentarily stunned by what Marcus just said, but recovers soon after. "Wow, Marcus. That was a beautiful thought."

He shrugs. "I wouldn't call it beautiful. More like a simple observation."

"But I would," Elsa says. "As the days go by, I feel more and more confident in my choice to have you on my council. You're a very intelligent man, Marcus. It's a shame you don't give yourself more credit."

Marcus laughs and tightens his one-armed embrace with Elsa. "If I praised myself any more, you would have lost interest a long time ago."

"You're probably right," Elsa says with a chuckle. "Men who are full of themselves are boring. They aren't really my type. I prefer isolated vigilantes-turned-councilmen."

"Just as I prefer intelligent, sophisticated, cryokinetic blondes."

Elsa grins. "It looks like we work well together, then."

"Elsa, my queen, you have no idea."

"I think I can make a guess."

Marcus places a tender kiss on Elsa's lips, which she returns fully. When they pull away, a smile is exchanged between the two. And as the lights of the Aurora Borealis dance across the night sky, the group stands together in the water. Anna remains in a tight embrace with Kristoff, a wedding band displayed proudly on her left ring finger, while Elsa and Marcus stand side by side with their arms around one another. Rosie rides atop Sven; leaning lazily on the reindeer's furry neck. They all glace at one another, and without uttering a single word, it's as if the same statement is agreed upon.

Life can't get much better than this.

* * *

**Just so you all know, that Greek myth about soul mates is a real one. I did my homework for this chapter.**

**Until next time, my lovelies!**

**-Symphonic Madness**


	11. Adventures in the Hourglass: Part One

**I must apologize for the tardiness of this chapter. Life's been stressful lately.**

**But aside from that, for the time being, these next few chapters will be centered around Rosie's background story, and her past. While I did make some minor edits to the original series of events, the idea for the events of Rosie's past as a whole was not my own. Credit for the plot of these next chapters goes to the diabolical mastermind, Lilypad009. She is an evil genius. And I love her guts for giving me this idea. These chapters will be the only ones with titles (tentatively). Just for the sake of this sounding cool.**

**So, without further adieu, Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you: _Adventures in the Hourglass: Part One__  
_**

**5,111 words later...**

**-Symphonic Madness**

* * *

Three days pass by in a blur of excitement and giddiness from the bride-to-be, her future groom, and the people around them. All throughout Arendelle, the citizens were in an uproar of gleeful shouts and cheers at the couple's announcement. The palace was flooded with engagement presents from various businesses around the kingdom, letters and gifts from foreign dignitaries who wished to give their congratulations, and even a few lucky Arendelle nobles stopped by to share their excitement with the princess and her ice master fiancée.

Rosie and Marcus agreed that in the chaos of the moment, they would postpone their confessions of the past until the smoke cleared a bit more. It was a hard agreement to come by, seeing as both siblings were hesitant to do so. But eventually, they swallowed their pride for Anna and Kristoff's sakes, and let them enjoy the limelight for a little longer.

Eventually, the time came when Rosie decided that she could no longer delay telling Marcus and her new friends about her past. It was a difficult decision to make, and it took a lot of self-convincing for the young girl to ask them to accompany her in the second floor sitting room.

It is a tense walk down the palace corridors. Olaf was convinced that now was not the time for his childlike innocence, and had waddled off shortly before the group began their trek. For that, Elsa had to give Anna some credit. She could be very persuasive when she needed to be. Kristoff, Rosie, Anna, Marcus, and Elsa all know what is about to happen, and each one of them takes their time to prepare for it.

Elsa looks at Marcus as they walk; noticing his fearful, anxious expression. She intertwines her cold fingers with his, and squeezes. He looks at her with a grateful smile, and her responding facial expression acts as a silent reassurance that everything will be alright. They reach the sitting room, and with a deep breath, Rosie opens the doors and lets her friends through. She closes the doors once everyone is in the room; the sound of the lock reverberating through the room with an ominous _click_.

Marcus takes a seat on the sofa, and Rosie joins him. Elsa sits on the rug by his knees, and Anna and Kristoff gather close together around the siblings. Rosie sighs.

"I suppose I should start from the beginning, then…"

* * *

_Flashback_

_Nine years earlier; the night of the fire_

"Come on, Rosie!" Marcus cries.

"Marcus! Wait up!" Rosie calls after him.

Fourteen year-old Marcus turns on his heel, and lifts his sister onto his back. In a mess of fearful sobs, the boy and his sister dash through the burning house.

"Cover your mouth with your sleeve!" Marcus shouts. "Try not to breathe in the fumes of the smoke!"

She does as he tells her, and they continue their frantic sprint through their home. Eventually, Marcus happens upon the front door. It is barricaded by a heap of charred wood, and a spike of pure terror almost makes Marcus cringe. He looks behind him for other means of escape, but finds none.

"Brace yourself, Rosie," he tells the girl on his back.

"What are you doing?!" she asks in a desperate voice.

"I love you," he says. "Everything will be okay. I promise. You just have to trust me."

"I do," she says. "I love you, too."

"Ready? One… Two… Three!"

He barrels through the door just as the house begins to collapse. He is propelled quite a few feet forward, and lands on the cobblestone street with a loud grunt. Rosie suffered a similar fate, but sadly landed nowhere near her older brother. The girl coughs and sputters violently from the smoke inhalation.

"Marcus!" she cries. "Marcus! Where are you?!"

The answering noises are muffled, but none of them resemble her brother's voice. She tries again, but receives no answer once again. Rosie continues to cry out for Marcus, and each time getting the same response. She cries and screams until her voice is little more than a quiet croak. After some time, her cries fall silent, and her mind goes fuzzy. _Marcus was right_, she thinks to herself. _That smoke is bad stuff_.

Before her vision completely fades, Rosie sees the blurred image of a hooded stranger. The stranger is holding a lit torch in one hand, and a raised dagger in the other, but Rosie has no time to process it. She falls into deep, abysmal unconsciousness. Above her, a young man stands with a dagger poised to strike. His stance falters slightly, and he begrudgingly looks upon the child below him. _She's so small_, he thinks, _how am I supposed to do this? She's just a child! Ivan may have a bone to pick with these people, but if this girl survived what I just did, she is meant to stay that way. I may have blood on my hands as it is, but one more survivor is one less burden for me to bear. No amount of Ivan's hatred and wrath is worth the blood of a child._

The hooded stranger gently lifts the girl into his arms, her head flopping on his shoulder. In the cover of the night, he begins a fast-paced walk to the forests that skirt the tiny kingdom of Festning. Once he reaches the wooded terrain, he sets Rosie down in the lush grass. The location has its fair share of beasts, but it is visible enough by the homes scattered throughout the forest that rescue is possible. For now, the hooded assassin decides to leave the child to suffer whatever fate has planned for her. And as quick as he came, the man flees; his footsteps barely audible over the sounds of the surrounding wildlife.

Rosie remains unconscious and unmoving, even as the footsteps of two young boys grow louder as they approach the scene. The boys, two brothers of no older than thirteen, make their way through the brush after a long day of work. One of them, a tall, gangly boy with fair hair and blue eyes, balances a crook over one shoulder. The other boy, an equally tall, but not as fair and boney as his twin, holds a crook as well, but also has a small lantern clutched in his free hand.

"I still can't believe you almost let that one baby get away!" the muscular boy exclaims. "Someday, Malcom, you're gonna make us lose our jobs!"

"Oh please, Frode," the lanky boy, Malcom says defensively. "I doubt Uncle Jorgen would do that to us. After all, we've worked for him for years! Unless you're forgetting that you were the one who landed us this stupid job in the first place!"

"You were the one who wanted to play catch so badly!" Frode retorts. "If you hadn't begged Dad to let us play this…"

He stops everything he's doing instantly, and Malcom is enraged once more. "What? What would've…!"

Frode clamps a palm over his twin brother's mouth. "Shhhh! I think I see something!"

"What?! Where?!" Malcom begins an onslaught of questions, but is silenced with a slap to the back of his head from Frode.

"Look! Over there!" Frode says in a harsh whisper.

He stretches his arm out to shine more light on the woods in front of them. There, in the middle of a small clearing, is a small pile of salmon pink fabric. Frode and Malcom share a look of concern, and break into a frantic dash towards the object. When they reach it, the brothers crouch down and Frode shines the lantern closer to it. He sees a tangled mess of brown hair, and tiny hands curled into the figure's chest. This piques the curiosity of the boys, and ever so gently, Malcom turns the figure so it lies on its back.

"By God," Frode murmurs. "It's a little girl!" He hands the lantern off to his brother and shakes the girl vigorously in an attempt to wake her up. "Hey! Hey! Girl! Wake up! Hey! You okay?! Come on! Wake up! Wake up!"

Rosie stirs, and her eyes slowly open. "Huh? Where am I? Who are you?"

"Good!" Malcom exclaims. "She's awake! We thought you were a goner for a second there, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart? Really?" Frode snaps. "She's not _that_ young. What's your name, girl? How old are you?"

"My name is Rosalie…" she says after a brief, tense moment. "I'm ten years old…"

She trails off. Her head is pounding, and Rosie can no longer fight it when her exhaustion claims her once more. The boys are panicking now; using any means they can to wake the strange girl up again.

"We can't just leave her out here," Frode says finally. "She'll die on her own. We need to get her to safety."

"I think I know who would be willing to help us," Malcom tells him. "Admiral Duncan, that one friend of Dad's that's here for a visit."

"I don't know, Malcom," Frode says. "Admiral Duncan just _became_ an admiral. And he's still on duty overseas, and will be for the next two years. I doubt he'd want to add more stress to his life."

"Ah, but you're forgetting, my most doubtful confidant," Malcom says, slinging an arm over his brother's shoulders and giving him a conspiratorial grin. "He and the Lady Isolde have been grieving over their inability to have children. Due to his wife's infertility, Admiral Duncan is left childless, but desperate to fix that. I think this girl, Rosalie, might just be the answer to his prayers."

Frode sighs in defeat. "Okay. Fine. But let's take her back to Dad first. I think it would be kind of weird for the two of us to go see Duncan without Dad. I'll carry her. You grab our crooks and the lantern. We will take her back with us. Maybe Dad will propose a different solution, and we can work from there."

"You sound so… grownup-y," Malcom says.

"That's not a word."

"Case and point."

"Just get the damn crooks."

Malcom chuckles and walks over to retrieve the crooks, which had been hastily dropped in their attempt to revive the little girl they found. Frode lifts her into his arms bridal style. She's heavy, but it's nothing he can't handle. He's spent the past three years of his life working with sheep, and has had to carry his fair share of them. Plus, as a future member of the Festning armed forces, he intends to get as strong as possible. He begins the walk back to his home, and Malcom catches up a moment later. They walk side by side in tense silence.

Luckily, their father does not live too far away. They reach the home a few minutes later, and give a brief explanation as to how they came across the girl, and what little details she gave about herself before losing consciousness again.

"Wait… Rosalie… That name sounds familiar," the boys' father says. A look of recognition and dread appears on his face. "Rosalie… She's the little girl from the fire tonight. Chances are, if the fire was started by who I think it was, it is not safe for her to remain here in Festning. You said you had a suggestion as to where we could take her, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Malcom says. "Admiral Duncan."

"I don't know if he'd be too keen to accept her." The man looks at Rosie, who is still asleep in Frode's arms, and sighs. "But it's worth a shot. For her sake. Frode, you've done enough. So I ask that you stay here and keep an eye on Joseff. If your mother wakes up again while we're gone, let her know I will return soon. Malcom, come with me. We must pay a visit to our old friend."

"Will do," Frode says. "Plus, I was hoping to spend some time with the little rascal anyway. But Dad?"

"Yes, Frode?"

"Make sure she's safe. From what it looks like, she's gone through something terrible."

Malcom, Frode, and their father all turn to look at the tiny girl. She is covered from head to toe in ugly splotches of soot and filth. Some ends of her hair have been singed off, and her nightgown is torn in several places. She is tossing and turning, fighting in her dreams, and going in and out of consciousness. The three of them grimace. Finally, the boys' father speaks.

"We will, Frode. Say your goodbyes, boys. If the people who set Lord Nathaniel's home on fire are still in Festning, which is likely the case, then Lady Rosalie cannot do the same."

"I know, Dad," Frode says.

"Then we're off."

Frode transfers the girl from his arms into Malcom's, and the journey begins. His father holds a lantern in front of him, and the two walk at a brisk pace to the docks. It does not take long for them to reach the admiral's ship, and after some trepidation from the sailors guarding it, they are granted entry. Malcom's father approaches the door to the captain's quarters, and bangs his mighty fist on the wood.

"Duncan!" he shouts. "It's me! Gustav! Please, I need your help!"

A few seconds pass, and the door opens to reveal a man in pajamas, with sleep clearly evident in his eyes. Admiral Duncan is a sizeable man; standing of average height, but with a muscular build that is well suited to his work in the navy of his kingdom. His face holds sharp features, which includes a pointed nose and a square jaw lined with a coarse beard of brown hair. Someone who knows little more about him than his status in the military would say his appearance is one to be feared and obeyed. But Gustav and his twin sons know better. This battle-hardened admiral is compassionate and kind; contrary to the composed officer he gives the impression of being. It is clear in his hazel eyes that he is as nurturing as he is ferocious.

"What is going on?" Duncan asks. "Come in, friends. Please, come in."

They do as he asks, the door shutting behind them. "Dad, if it's okay, I would like to summarize tonight's events to Admiral Duncan."

"By all means, go ahead, son," Gustav tells him.

Malcom does as he requested, and Gustav finishes by explaining their reasoning for their visit. Duncan looks from Gustav, to Malcom, and back to Gustav again, before settling his eyes on the squirming girl in the boy's arms. His eyes widen, and he gulps before speaking again.

"I don't know if I can do this," he says. "I'll be at sea for another two years, yet. That's no way a little girl should grow up."

"I agree," Gustave says. "But we really don't have much of a choice, given the circumstances. She _will_ die if she stays in Festning. I know the fire that killed the rest of Lady Rosalie's family was not the result of any natural occurrence. Someone wanted that family dead. They got their wish, for the most part. But if they learn that they weren't completely successful in that effort, they will do anything to find Lady Rosalie, and finish the job. I ask you to do this because she will be safe wherever you are going. And perhaps this is the answer to your woes about being without a child of your own. You may not be her father by blood, but you may very well be all she has left. Give her a chance. If not for Isolde and her pain, then for Rosalie herself."

After a moment, Duncan sighs. "I suppose you are right. I will take her under my care, and raise her as my own. It will be her choice to remain with me when I return home to Isolde. My loyalty is no longer to the navy and to Isolde alone. Now, it is also to Rosalie, and her wellbeing."

A relieved grin forms on Malcom and Gustav's face, and he claps Duncan's shoulder. "Thank you, my friend. I am indebted to you."

"As am I." Duncan smiles and holds his arms out to Malcom. "May I?"

"Of course!" Malcom says excitedly.

He hands Rosalie over to Duncan, and the admiral smiles at her, all hesitation about keeping her fading the instant she is in his arms. "Thank you for bringing her here. She is in good hands. I can assure you of that."

"That's good to hear," Gustav says. "Come on, Malcom. Let's go home."

Malcom doesn't follow his father right away. Instead he caresses Rosalie's forehead, and gives it a tender kiss before pulling away.

"I know I don't know you that well," Malcom says. "And as much as I'd like to learn more about you, I can't. You shouldn't return. Not anytime soon. Stay strong, Rosalie. You'll be okay."

He looks forlornly at her one last time, and then exits with his father. Soon after, Rosie stirs, and looks up at Duncan.

"I was only pretending to be asleep," she tells him. "I've been awake since we came on the boat. At least I think this is a boat. I don't know where I am, or who any of you people are. Just please don't hurt me."

Her voice breaks, and her body begins to shudder with the force of her sobs. The admiral holds her close, cooing and hushing her in an attempt to help her calm down. After what seems like an eternity to Rosie, she calms down, and Duncan lets her down to stand on her own.

"I know what happened to you and your family," he begins. "And for that, I cannot apologize enough. My name is Duncan, and I am an admiral in the Southern Isles Royal Navy. I don't much care what you call me, but as of right now, formalities are not something I want you to use. According to the people who brought you to me, you aren't safe in Festning anymore. The fire that destroyed your home was started intentionally, and by people who want you and the rest of your family out of the picture. I know it isn't the most favorable option, but I would like you to stay here on my ship with my crew and me. You would be safe, and that's all I could hope for."

"How long?" Rosie asks. "How long until your service is done?"

"Two years from now," Duncan says. "I've been gone two years already. It doesn't seem like that long when you get used to it, trust me."

Rosie ponders the situation for a moment before responding with a sigh. "I have no home here. But maybe I can find one somewhere else. I will stay. But only if you promise I will not burden you."

"Lady Rosalie, you are anything but a burden," Duncan tells her. "I am simply doing what I know in my heart needs to be done. Come with me. I will show you to a room. Sadly, you will have to share it with a member of my crew. But I think you will find him to be pleasant company."

Duncan places a guiding hand on Rosie's back, leading her out of his quarters and down the narrow corridor of the vessel. A thought occurs to him then.

"I need to get you some new clothes," he says. "I can probably scrounge something up to last you for tonight and tomorrow. But I'm gonna have to bug my lieutenant to pick up some more before we leave."

"That would be great, actually," Rosie says. "But, uh… Duncan?"

"Yes, milady?"

"You said you wanted to drop formalities," she says. "And I'm holding you to that. My name is Rosalie, but please call me Rosie."

"That will work for the moment," Duncan tells her, a jovial grin forming on his face. "But chances are, you'll get a nickname sometime soon. Whether you want one or not, it's probably gonna happen. But Rosie works for the time being."

Rosie sighs inwardly. _Oh great_, she thinks. _What kind of nickname will these uncultured pigs give me? Probably nothing good._

"I know what you're thinking," Duncan says. "But I can assure you my men will show no ill intentions towards you. Your roommate, especially. If any of them do, and he hears about it before I do, I doubt he will let them get away with it."

Rosie shoots him a questioning look. "How so?"

"Out of all the men on this ship, I would say your bunkmate, Cecil, has the most morality. Though unmarried, he doesn't often take kindly to sexism from his fellow soldiers. It was a value he had back on his home island; one taught to him by the plantation owners who enslaved him. That's actually how we found him. But I'll let him tell you that story." He comes to a stop in front of a room with an open door. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna try to find some clothes that might fit you. This is your room, by the way. I'm sorry, once again, about the poor accommodations. Had I known about your arrival, I would have made better arrangements."

"It's fine," Rosie says. "I'll be fine… I hope."

Duncan gets to a position on his knees, eye level with Rosie. "You will be fine. I promise. You are a part of my family now. And I will protect you."

Rosie, throwing caution to the wind, wraps her arms around Duncan. The man is surprised, but quickly composes himself enough to return the embrace. He holds her tightly to his body. This girl may very well be the answer to his prayers for a child. He won't let the chance pass him by. He pulls away, and looks at Rosie with pure, uncensored adoration.

"I'll be right back," Duncan tells her. "Cecil will help you get settled in a bit more."

"Cecil will what now?" a new voice asks.

A mountain of a man appears in the doorway. Rosie knows instantly that this must be Cecil. He is extremely tall; standing at a mighty six feet and four inches in height. He has a somewhat dark complexion, with brown eyes and a head of wavy black hair that is starting to turn gray. Right now, he stands in a simple tunic and pants, but his feet are bare. With an amused smile, he turns his attention to Duncan.

"What do you need, Sarge?" he asks, his thick Irish accent tinting his speech.

"Cecil, this is Rosalie… Err… Rosie," Duncan says. "There was a fire tonight that killed her family. I've taken her under my care. If you would be so kind, can she stay with you in your room?"

Cecil laughs. "That's what you wake me up in the middle of the night for?"

"Because you're probably unaware," Duncan says with a grin. "It's almost dawn."

"_Almost_," Cecil quips. "It isn't dawn yet."

"Whatever the case," Duncan says, turning to the girl beside him. "Rosie, this is Cecil. I'm sure you two will get along famously. Now, I'm gonna go and get you some clothes. I'll be back in a bit."

He takes his leave, and Rosie is left standing with the man known as Cecil. "Come on, sweetheart. I don't bite. There's only one washroom, but if you keep it clean, then I promise to do the same."

"Okay, I guess," Rosie says.

"Come on in," Cecil tells her as he guides her into his living quarters. "I'm gonna give you the bottom bunk. I doubt you can reach the top one."

"Says who?" Rosie asks indignantly.

She rushes ahead of him, and begins her ascent to the top bunk. She scrambles in an attempt to reach the top, releasing several high-pitched grunts from the effort. But soon, she finds herself losing her footing. Rosie flails her arms wildly and squeals in terror. But just when her body is about to hit the floor, strong arms catch her.

"Yeah. Not gonna happen, Squirt," Cecil says, releasing her from his arms. "Hey! I think that might just be what I call you from now on."

"Squirt?" Rosie asks.

"Hey, it's probably better than some of the names these seaborne bastards could give you," he says with a shrug.

Rosie takes some time to process this. "Good point."

"Rosie?" she hears Duncan's voice from the doorway. He appears a couple of seconds later. "I don't think a dress is easily obtainable, nor do I think it would be wise to wear one on a vessel like this. But I did manage to grab an old uniform that might just fit you. Until I can pester someone into getting you some better attire, I hope you'll settle for this. Sadly, Rosie, dresses are completely out of the question. Pants, boots, tunics, and things like that are what will likely be more suited to life at sea.

"Speaking of life at sea, I have come to a decision about your time here. If you intend to stay sane on this godforsaken voyage, and stay in the good graces of the other crew members, I suggest you assist them in their daily tasks. I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't have to. I just don't want there to be too much conflict."

"I guess that's okay," Rosie says. "At least I'm safe."

"That's the idea, Squirt!" Cecil exclaims with a laugh. He takes the folded clothes from Duncan and holds them out to Rosie. "Why don't you go into the washroom and put these on?"

"Uh… Okay," she says.

Rosie takes the clothes from Cecil and goes into the washroom, shutting the door behind her. The outfit consists of a pair of navy blue trousers, white tunic, and a vest the same color as the pants. No shoes were provided for her, but something told her that it was probably out of necessity rather than simple forgetfulness. As expected, the outfit is too big, but not as big as Rosie originally predicted it would be.

When she exits the washroom, she finds her new caretaker missing, but Cecil remains. Rosie finally has time to take in the appearance of the room she'll be living in for the next two years. The room is small, but not unbearably so. From her place in the doorway of the washroom, she can see the two hammocks a short distance across the room; positioned to act as bunk beds, but far more hazardous. To the right of the bottom bunk, Rosie sees a small nightstand with two novels and an oil lamp sitting atop it. The room is complete with a small desk with an even smaller window poised right above it. Next to the desk is a medium-sized chest. _Probably belongs to Cecil_, Rosie thinks. The room, overall, is quaint; the perfect living arrangements for the seafaring soldier.

Cecil is in the process of putting some bedding on Rosie's bunk. She clears her throat to gain his attention, and he turns to face her.

"While you were changing, Sarge brought a pillow and some bedding for you," he says. "But he forgot a blanket. I've got an extra one you can use for now. I'm warning you, though. These blankets may be warm, but they're made from wool. So they're itchy. You'll get used to it, though. I'm sure he's already told you that. But it's true."

"Thank you," Rosie says, with a grateful smile. "For everything."

"You're welcome, Squirt. I like the outfit, by the way."

"It's a little big," she says, squirming in her new clothes as if to prove her point. "I don't suppose you have a belt?"

"Not one that would fit you." Cecil shakes his head. "But there's something I could give you that might do the trick until we can find you one."

He maneuvers over to the chest, opens it, and after rummaging through its contents for a moment, he resurfaces with a short length of rope in his hands. "Here. Just tie it around your waist. It will do for now."

Rosie does as he asks, but there is something nagging at the back of her mind that she just has to say. "Duncan said they found you on a plantation on some island. What's the deal with that? Wait. Sorry. That sounded rude."

Cecil laughs. "It's not a problem. I'm a dark-skinned man with an Irish accent and family ties to a far off island. Your curiosity was something I actually expected you to show me sooner. But, long story short, I was born on an island in the West Indies. It's been so long since I've been back there that I've completely forgotten the name of it. Anyway, I was the second son of the chief of the native tribe there. I was enslaved by Irish plantation owners, and they taught me how to read, write, and speak. But as kind as they were, I was still a rebellious little bastard, and as such they had to punish me for my wrongdoings. Shortly after I turned eighteen, I got into some pretty big trouble, and got beaten mercilessly. The previous admiral of this ship, Admiral Johann, found me cowering in the woods. And in exchange for him freeing me, I had to join the navy. It worked out pretty well, as you can see. And I have no real intention of going anywhere else. At least not right now."

"Man," Rosie says. "That must've been crazy."

"I believe 'crazy' is a huge understatement there, Squirt."

Rosie walks over and takes a seat on her bed. "So Duncan said something about assisting you guys in daily activities. What, exactly, does that mean?"

"Well, you'll be doing a shit ton of chores, for one thing," Cecil replies bluntly. "But you will also have some combat training, and will be expected to show Admiral Duncan - who we call 'Sarge' by the way – the same respect in public that the rest of us do."

"That doesn't sound too good," Rosie mutters.

Cecil's laughter is boisterous and deep. "Not in the least bit. But it won't be so bad once you get used to it. Now, I'm assuming after the night you've had that you're exhausted."

"You assumed wrong. I'm wide awake!" Rosie exclaims.

"Settle down, Squirt. You won't be saying that for long," Cecil says with a chuckle.

Rosie probably should have taken him seriously when he said that.


	12. Adventures in the Hourglass: Part Two

The first month Rosie spent at sea was probably the most grueling time of her life. Her life before the fire was one of luxury; the burdens she bore back then seeming almost humorous to her now. Every day included some form of bitter labor. At first, Rosie despised it, and often wondered if death would have been a more favorable alternative. But as the days went by, she grew stronger, and developed a resolve unlike anything the present crew had ever seen.

By the middle of her second month on the ship, which had the christened name of _The Maiden Astrid_, Rosie was as much a sailor as the other men. It took some time, but she grew more comfortable in pants, and was even starting to prefer them over skirts and dresses. She was often seen without shoes on; her trousers rolled up to the base of her knees. Rosie smiled more and more every day. Her childlike energy was embraced and loved by the war-hardened sailors she became friends with. Rosie grew taller, and her skin now held a darker tint to it, courtesy of the ever present beating sun. She decided a few months into her voyage that long hair was no longer useful to her. With the help of an eccentric old man called Pigeon, she rid herself of the hair; a style that served as a painful reminder of her troubled past. From then on, her hair was kept in curls that stopped just before the base of her neck.

Cecil quickly became her most trusted companion. He taught her the fighting styles he learned from his native tribe, and even the techniques he picked up from over three decades at sea. Duncan found that as much as he tried, swordsmanship was not something Rosie enjoyed. She was good at it, of course. But Rosie found a much deeper passion for the hand-to-hand combat maneuvers Cecil taught her.

The two remaining years passed before Duncan knew it. Yet somehow, even after all the girl had gone through, Rosie managed to keep track of time enough to remind Duncan of her birthday. Twice. She kept track of the date by circling it on Duncan's calendar when it was to come soon thereafter. Her eleventh birthday was an eventful one, and the crew held a huge celebration in her honor. Her twelfth birthday was celebrated in similar fashion, but with even more enthusiasm. Duncan's four-year service has come to end faster than he expected.

The ship should be docking sometime today. Needless to say, both Duncan and Rosie are extremely anxious. Duncan was anxious enough when he made that stop for supplies in Festning, which was his birthplace and childhood home. Before then, he had not been back since he moved to Velstand with his family at the age of thirteen. How was he going to handle his return to where he now belonged? It was a near unfathomable concept to Duncan, but he kept this trepidation in check for Rosie's sake. Rosie, for her part, was nervously awaiting what could possibly be her new life. Her agreement to remain with Duncan when he returns home was met with so much joy and relief that the admiral actually wept. He had grown rather fond of the mischievous little spitfire that Rosie had turned into.

* * *

"Come on, Squirt! You've got to have more in you than that! Or is the Lady Rosalie too feeble and weak to fight?"

"Don't tempt me, Gramps. I was just getting started!"

"Really, now? Show me what you've got, then!"

Rosie delivers a right hook; a move Cecil was not expecting. It collides with his jaw with a sickening crack. The West Indies man just grins.

"Nice one!"

"It's about to get better!"

Rosie and Cecil have just begun their morning sparring session. The sun has just come over the horizon, and the two are already fighting. It's not an unusual sight for the other men, though. It's an early morning routine that Rosie and Cecil have been participating in every day for the past year at least. Rosie's sleeves are rolled to her elbows. Her navy blue trousers, as usual, are rolled to her knees. Her calloused feet are left bare, and her short hair blows slightly in the morning breeze. The fight continues on, and Cecil continues to quip back and forth with his roommate.

"Remember, Squirt! Wait for…"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his statement, for his pupil has just done what he was in the process of reminding her to do. Rosie lands three hard hits to Cecil's ribcage, and two more to his back, and he falls to the wooden floor of the ship.

"You were saying?" Rosie asks with a smirk.

"Don't get too arrogant," Cecil says. "These bones are getting way too old for this."

"Sure," she says, extending her hand to help him up. "You're just too prideful to admit that you lost to a twelve year-old girl."

"I'm not surprised," Duncan says as he approaches the two.

"That's new," Cecil replies. "Seeing as our little miscreant just seems to be full of surprises."

Duncan laughs. "Very true."

"Astrid should be pulling into port in just a couple of hours, Sarge," Cecil says, looking seriously at the admiral. "Are you ready for this? I mean, how are you so sure your wife has been faithful to you? Four years have passed since you've been home. A lot can change in that amount of time."

"Indeed it can, Cecil," Duncan tells him. "And I'm afraid I share your uncertainty. I am hoping she has remained loyal to me. But we will just have to wait and see."

"Don't worry, Pops," Rosie says with a grin. "She'll probably be right there at the docks waiting for you."

"You're right," Duncan says. "She will be waiting for me. And she'll be waiting for you, too, ya little imp."

Still grinning, she gives Duncan a mighty shove. "Little imp my butt."

"You're just proving my point the more you try to protest it," Duncan says with a laugh. "Isolde is right to be wary of you, little one. She'll have gray hair in no time. But, all that aside, I ask that you come with me. I would like to speak with you."

"Okay," Rosie says. "What about?"

"Rosie, you are aware of my reasoning behind taking you under my care. Am I correct?" he asks as they begin their descent below the deck of the ship.

"Yeah. You said people tried to kill my family and me," Rosie tells him. "And I was brought here by a shepherd boy and his father as a last ditch effort to keep me safe."

"That's right," Duncan affirms, opening the door to his quarters. "But I'm afraid that was only part of the truth."

"What do you mean?"

"My beloved wife, Isolde, is infertile," Duncan begins. "Before I left, we had been struggling for ages to produce a child of our own, but having little success. I had long since lost hope that we would be blessed with one. But then you were brought to me as if in answer to the prayers of my wife and I. You were alone, and heaven knows you weren't safe. I was hesitant at first to take you. A life at sea is no way for a young girl to grow up. But then I looked at you a little closer. You had no home, and no one to go to. I knew I had to do something. You became so much more to me than a fragile, orphaned girl. I grew to love you as if you were my own."

"Papa, I know," Rosie says with a chuckle. "You've told me that much already. I've known since I came here that your wife is unable to have children. And it doesn't change things."

"I am aware that you know this," Duncan says. "But I have yet to reach my point. The reason I am reminding you of this is because I am positive that Isolde will feel a bond with you the instant she meets you. You may very well return meaning to her life. And I know you will return her love wholeheartedly. Of that I am absolutely certain."

"And I am, too," Rosie affirms. "From what you've already said about her, she seems like an amazing woman. And I'm excited to meet her."

Before Duncan can respond, a cry rings throughout the ship. "Land ho!"

Duncan and Rosie share a look, and then immediately spring into action. Rosie rushes to her cabin and collects what little belongings she has acquired on her journey, shoving them gracelessly into an old leather knapsack.

"Ready the sails!" Cecil cries. He bursts into the cabin with Rosie. "Squirt! We need your help on deck! Get up there!"

She is quick to do as Cecil told her; taking the stairs to the deck two at a time. She climbs to one of the sails and begins assisting the crew. But when she spots the port ahead, all previous obligations are forgotten. She slowly moves to stand; using her years of practiced balance and the sails themselves to help her stay that way. Without thinking, Rosie grabs hold of a loose rope hanging from the sails, and swings to the bow of the ship. Her bare feet touch the wood with a dull thud. _Finally_, she thinks. _I'm here._

Just as she is about to finish taking it all in, Rosie hears the sailors begin to sing in the same hauntingly beautiful tune they always have. And as she usually does, she joins in with the crew in their reprise of the well-known melody.

**(IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: The lyrics of the song are organized with the main singer's part left without italics, while the chorus where the rest of the crew sings together is written in italics. The main singer starts out as a random soldier, but Rosie takes his place at the second verse.)**

Up aloft, amid the rigging**  
**Swiftly blows the fav'ring gale,**  
**Strong as springtime in its blossom,**  
**Filling out each bending sail,**  
**And the waves we leave behind us**  
**Seem to murmur as they rise;**  
**We have tarried here to bear you**  
**To the land you dearly prize.**  
**_Rolling home, rolling home,__**  
**__Rolling home across the sea,__**  
**__Rolling home to dear old Velstand__**  
**__Rolling home, dear land to thee._

Now, it takes all hands to man the capstan,**  
**Mister see your cables clear!**  
**Soon you'll be sailing homeward bound sir,**  
**And for the channel you will steer.**  
**See your sheets and crew lines free sir,**  
**All your buntlines overhauled;**  
**Are the sheerpoles and gear all ready?**  
**Soon for dear Velstand we will steer.**  
**_Rolling home, rolling home,__**  
**__Rolling home across the sea,__**  
**__Rolling home to dear old Velstand__**  
**__Rolling home, dear land to thee._

Full ten thousand miles behind us,**  
**And a thousand miles before,**  
**Ancient ocean waves to waft us**  
**To the well remembered shore.**  
**Newborn breezes swell to send us**  
**To our childhood welcome skies,**  
**To the glow of friendly faces**  
**And the glance of loving eyes.**  
**_Rolling home, rolling home,__**  
**__Rolling home across the sea,__**  
**__Rolling home to dear old Velstand__**  
**__Rolling home, dear land to thee._

The shanty ends just as the ship is about to pull into port. "Tie 'er down! Get it nice and taught, ya seadogs!"

"Anchors ahoy!"

"Ready the boarding ramp!"

A series of nautical commands are heard all around the dock as Rosie dashes below deck to retrieve her belongings. When she enters the cabin, she finds Cecil there waiting for her. Rosie is suddenly overcome with grief. She will likely never see her old friend again.

"So where are you gonna go now?" she asks him.

"As I said when we met, Squirt," Cecil says. "I'm not quite sure. I suppose I'll just go where the wind and sea take me. Wherever that may be."

Rosie's bottom lip quivers with her restrained tears. "I'm gonna miss you, Cecil."

"Aw! Now don't give me those crocodile tears," he says. "Now come here and give this old seadog a hug."

In a burst of energy, Rosie barrels into Cecil and crushes him in her vice-like embrace. He returns the gesture, not letting her see the tears in his eyes. When he composes himself, Cecil pulls away. He gives her the most compassionate smile Rosie has ever seen on him. Slowly, his hands come together behind his neck, and he retrieves the necklace Rosie has so often seen him wear.

"Here," he says, placing the necklace in her hand. "I want you to have this."

"But this is your necklace! It's the only thing you have from your tribe!" Rosie exclaims. "I can't accept this."

"Has anyone ever told you it is rude to reject a gift?" Cecil teases. "Please keep it. Keep it so you have something to remind you of me, and something to remind you of the lessons you've learned at sea. I've never told you this, but the panther tooth hanging from the necklace does not only represent physical strength. It represents the strength of someone's heart, and the courage within it. You've earned this, Rosalie. You have a more courageous heart than any man I've ever known. Remember your training, and practice often."

Rosie pulls the necklace over her head. "I promise I will. You'll always be my best friend, Cecil. Thank you."

"And you will always be mine," he says earnestly. "Catch ya later, Squirt."

Duncan makes his presence in the doorway known by clearing his throat, and Rosie turns back to Cecil one last time. "Catch ya later, Gramps."

"Godspeed, Cecil," Duncan says with a salute.

"Aye, Sarge," the man says, returning the salute.

With one last forlorn look at Cecil, Rosie slings her bag over her back and follows Duncan out of the cabin. They reach the deck, and Duncan stops; his eyes scanning over the faces in the crowd. When he sees no sign of his beloved, he sighs, and gestures Rosie to follow him the rest of the way. He straightens his uniform some more in an attempt to look somewhat dignified. The girl beside him, however, could care less about propriety; a fact that is evident through her still bare feet, and scraggly appearance. She is truly a rogue in the eyes of society, and it's not something she frets too much over. Not right now, anyway.

Duncan and Rosie step off the platform, and Duncan begins to feel disappointment seeping into his heart at twice the speed it was before. That is, until a dainty hand taps on his shoulder. Duncan doesn't turn around right away. Rosie, who is instantly aware of who this woman is, shoves Duncan in her direction.

"Isolde!" he exclaims.

With boisterous laughter, he lifts his wife into the air and twirls her around. Their embrace is so tight that Rosie sees Isolde's knuckles turning white from the force of her grip. Tears flow freely from both of them, and Rosie can't help but wonder if her previous image of public displays of affection might have been somewhat wrong. The girl had always been taught that passionate exchanges between a man and woman in love were most rude and improper. But the way that Duncan and Isolde are showing their love and devotion to one another seems ordinary. Beautiful, even. Rosie sheds a couple of tears of her own. Her almost inaudible hiccup is what snaps Duncan out of his trance with his wife. He grins, and guides her over to Isolde.

"Isolde, this is Rosalie," he begins. "About two years ago, when my ship was docked in Festning to restock some supplies, an old friend and one of his sons brought her to me. Gustav's sons, Malcom and Frode, found her lying unconscious in the woods. Gustav told me her family was killed in a horrible house fire. The fire wasn't ignited from any natural occurrence, and Gustav knew she would not be safe in Festning anymore. They asked me to take her under my care, and I accepted. She's been with me ever since. She is in desperate need of a home, and has expressed her desire to remain here with us."

Isolde meets Rosie's eyes, and instantly makes her decision on the matter. "Rosalie, you are more than welcome to stay with us. I promise that you will always be safe here. No matter where you go or what you do, you will have a home with Duncan and I."

Rosie is overcome with emotion so suddenly that when she bolts forward and embraces Isolde, both women fall to their knees. Duncan follows suit, and holds his wife and adoptive daughter tightly to him. The most beautiful harmony is felt by all three in that moment. It's a moment that none of them will ever forget.

* * *

**Hello, dear readers! Just so you guys know, the sea shanty used in this chapter is actually a real song. The parts they sing about their homeland (Velstand) were where I made some minor adjustments to the lyrics. The original lyrics name England as a sailor's homeland, but just so it applied to the story, and so I didn't get sued for copyright infringement from the site I got it from, I changed the wording a bit. I've got enough on my plate. Getting sued for plagiarism is not something I want to add to it. Next part will be out soon!**

**Cheers!**

**-Symphonic Madness**


	13. Adventures in the Hourglass: Part Three

**Okay, so I've got some explaining to do. I'll save it for the end of the next chapter, though. I'm publishing two in one day so you guys don't get mad at me... too much.**

**-Symphonic Madness**

* * *

At the age of seventeen, Rosie had quickly grown into quite the remarkable young lady. She was as intelligent as she was beautiful, and was as gentle as she was short-tempered. While her charm was seen as out of the ordinary, it was undoubtedly in existence with everything she did. Most of her best qualities would earn the title of unorthodox from an observer's standpoint, but to those who knew her best, it was those quirky, atypical qualities that made them love her all the more.

Rosie let her hair grow out again; the long, chocolate curls no longer seen as a nuisance. But her hair was not the only thing that changed over the course of five years. The girl now stands at least six inches taller than she did when she first arrived in Velstand. Rosie started filling out, and her appearance no longer resembled that of a young preteen. Rather, she was beginning to look like the woman she soon would be. Rosie's body remained as lithe as it had become in her years at sea, but with a few curves that showed her natural femininity.

Even when she was still living in Festning with her biological family, Rosie always possessed somewhat of a tomboyish personality. It only increased during her time at sea. And increase, it did. At first, Isolde had a very difficult time adjusting to the rambunctious endeavors of her adoptive daughter. Rosie was as stubborn as a mule, especially on the issue about what to wear in public. She loved pants, and would have gladly worn them every day, everywhere she went. But Isolde had a different set of beliefs on what garb was considered proper for a young lady in the public eye. This led to much conflict between the two. Eventually, Duncan had to step in and help them compromise. Rosie could wear whatever it was she wanted at home and while training, but in public affairs, she was to don some sort of dress or skirt. The compromise was mutually agreed upon, and remained that way.

Duncan and Isolde had taken on the responsibility of giving her an education themselves. Duncan was present for some of these lessons, but his daily work at the barracks prevented him from participating in them frequently. Rosie was a fast learner. She learned concepts quickly, and remembered them well. It wasn't her favorite pastime, of course. But she endured it for the sake of not having those lessons on the weekends. While education was something she didn't particularly find to be too much of a priority, just as any teenager didn't, Rosie did find that earning wages of her own was quite important. While Duncan and Isolde tried to convince her it wasn't necessary, Rosie insisted that if she was to keep living under their roof, she would earn it. She did various odd jobs around the kingdom for some extra money, and had a fairly decent amount of it saved in a chest below her bed. It was a money-saving technique she picked up from Cecil, and it became an invaluable asset to the safekeeping of her funds. Rosie would usually split her wages into thirds; one third going to Duncan and Isolde as aid for household necessities, another third going into her savings under her bed, and the last of it was hers to use as she pleased. Duncan and Isolde were taken aback at the maturity of Rosie's creation of her budgeting system, and praised her constantly for it. The system worked, and it satisfied everyone. Life really couldn't get much better.

* * *

"Rosie! Duncan!" Isolde calls from the second story window of their home. "It's time for breakfast!"

Duncan and Rosie instantly whip their heads in the direction of Isolde's voice. Matching grins form on their faces, and they begin the race from the backyard to the dining room of the house. Duncan is the victor, much to Rosie's irritation.

"Ha! Beat you again, Rosie!" he exclaims, plopping down into a chair at the table. "What's the score again?"

"Forty-eight to thirty-two now," Rosie pants as she takes her seat across from him. "But I'm still in the lead. The only reason you beat me this time was because you cheated!"

"I won fair and square," Duncan tells her. "I didn't cheat."

"Oh, so knocking over a pile of firewood to trip me isn't cheating? I was unaware," Rosie says dryly.

"You didn't trip, did you?"

"I stumbled! And you got ahead of me!"

"Would you two knock it off?" Isolde asks, irritation evident in her voice as she brings out a tray of food. "Heavens above, you two bicker more than children. Not to mention you knocked over our firewood!"

"Sorry, dear," Duncan says with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Isolde says, rolling her eyes and smiling affectionately. "Eat your potatoes and shut up."

"I love you," he says cheekily.

"You're a child. But I love you, too."

The three of them start to eat, and pleasant conversation begins. Duncan asks how Rosie's studies with Isolde are going, and much to his surprise, she goes into an enthusiastic rant about the history of nautical piracy. Overall, it is a very enjoyable, peaceful meal. When they all finish, Isolde brings up the topic that Rosie and Duncan knew was coming, but dreaded all the same.

"Okay. Chores," Isolde says. "Duncan, I would like you to pick up the scattered logs. That is, if you have a free moment. And don't worry. You will. I'll make sure of it. It's Saturday, and since you have no lessons, Rosie, I would like you to go to the marketplace today and pick up some things."

"A trip into town? Alone? Sweet!" Rosie exclaims.

"I knew you would be excited," Isolde says with a warm smile. "You are seventeen, Rosie. A trip into town by yourself seems like something you should be able to handle."

"I won't let you down!" Rosie vows.

She tries to bolt for the door, but the strong forearm of her father halts her movements. "Whoa! Whoa! Settle down! Go wash up and get dressed first."

"And don't wear pants today!" Isolde adds. "I don't want another mishap like last time. That poor kid you punched for mistaking you for a boy still squeaks a bit when he breathes through his nose, you know."

"Oh please," Rosie says. "You just want to prevent me from running around too much."

"And causing a scene," Duncan replies. "Now go."

With a groan, Rosie begins her journey to her room, taking the stairs two at a time. She quickly runs a cold bath and washes her body and hair with a soapy sponge. After draining the water from the tub, she dries herself off with a towel. _It isn't the most comfortable bathing experience_, Rosie thinks, _but there's no time to dawdle._ She runs a comb through her wet mess of curls, grunting in pain whenever it snags on a tangle. Two frustrating, painful minutes later, Rosie pulls her hair back into a single, low-hanging ponytail. When her eyes glance over her room, she spots a new dress lying atop her bed. She rolls her eyes. _Mama. Of course._

She puts on her undergarments and tugs the dress over her head. The dress is a deep magenta color; fashioned with subtle patterns of indigo and dark blue. Beneath it is a white, short-sleeved blouse. Rosie still retains her tomboyish attitude through a pair of black leather boots; scuffled and rough to the touch from frequent use. She looks in the mirror of her dresser and gives her reflection a devilish smirk, before dashing out of her room. Her sprint through the house ends once she reaches her parents by the door.

"Here's some money," Isolde says, placing a pouch of coins into Rosie's hand. She hands her a basket and a folded piece of paper. "And here's the list of items we need. I gave you just enough money for those items, and a little extra so you can grab lunch later if you're still out."

"Thank you, Mama," Rosie says with a broad smile.

"You're welcome, dear." Isolde returns the smile. "Be back at sundown at the latest. And don't get into too much trouble."

"No promises," Rosie says with a smirk. When she sees Isolde's uncertain expression, she backtracks. "I'll try not to. Don't worry."

"Good. I love you."

"I love you, too."

She pecks Isolde and Duncan each on the cheek before dashing out the front door of the house. Her exit from her home is swift, but Rosie manages to tone down the excitement in her step by slowing her pace to a brisk walk. She reaches the marketplace after a minute of almost-running.

"Okay." She pulls the grocery list out from her dress pocket. "Let's see here…"

Rosie begins the process of mentally plotting out her day's obligations, and where she can fulfill them. Her first stop, she decides, is at the produce shop. She maneuvers through the bustling crowd and selects the needed vegetables from the stand. She has just finished paying the shop owner when her ears pick up the sound of a small conflict occurring nearby.

Rosie follows the noise, and finds its source at the stand of a local baker. He seems to be arguing with someone, but Rosie can't figure out what the disagreement is about. She uses her stealth training to get closer without giving the impression that she is spying. Rosie approaches the scene and finds the grouchy, old baker to be yelling at a young man. The man is holding his hands up in surrender while the baker's thorough tongue-lashing continues. When the baker's hand goes to his smock for a knife, Rosie decides to intervene.

"Is there a problem here, Isaak?" she asks him.

"There most certainly is a problem here!" the baker, Isaak, exclaims. "But I see no possible way you could help me solve it."

"Don't make such rash assumptions," Rosie warns. "My papa holds a high rank in the kingdom's military. And you of all people should know how well I can handle conflict. Your son is a valid example of that."

Isaak's glare intensifies with the thought of his son's squeaking nose, but with a reluctant sigh, he decides to tell her his dilemma. "Very well. This boy just walked up to my cart while my back was turned and started eating a loaf of my bread."

"And why might that be reason to draw your weapon?" Rosie inquires.

"He has yet to show me the coin necessary to compensate my losses," Isaak says venomously.

"How much is owed?" she asks, somehow keeping her anger at the stupidity of the situation in check.

"Three gold coins," Isaak tells her.

Rosie fights the urge to slap her palm to her face. "That is the price?"

"You heard me."

"Three coins is worth drawing a serrated cooking knife?"

"I have little tolerance for thievery. The weapon used to commit the crime must be removed. His hand would have done nicely."

The young man visibly gulps, but Rosie isn't fazed. "You are a madman, Isaak."

He smiles. "Coin is what I live for."

Rosie doesn't reply. Instead, she takes out her pouch of coins and tosses three onto the table. "There. Your losses are compensated for. I do not wish to alert Papa of your gruesome business policies. But if I see this sort of thing happen again, Isaak, do not assume it will continue to be ignored. Am I understood?"

"Yes."

"Alright then. Farewell, Isaak. I expect to hear little more about this incident."

With that, Rosie leaves the sociopathic merchant and continues on her way. Or, she would have continued on, if her hand had not been grabbed and pulled backward. On instinct, she tugs on the offending hand and brings its owner to the cobblestone street. He lands with a grunt, and Rosie instantly recognizes him as the boy whose stolen bread she just paid for.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asks him. "You don't just grab people's hands without warning them! Are you crazy?!"

The boy looks up at Rosie from his place on the ground, and a brief expression of recognition forms on his face. It comes and goes so quickly that Rosie almost doesn't notice it. The boy stands up and dusts off his clothes. Rosie looks upon this stranger. He is lanky and tall, with a mop of shaggy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He smiles apologetically at her, and she raises an eyebrow. But he begins to speak before she can.

"I would have called your name, but I didn't know it," the boy says.

"Why were you trying to get my attention in the first place?" Rosie asks. "Wasn't me paying for your bread enough?"

"That's why I wanted to get your attention." He smiles in amusement. "I wanted to thank you for saving my tail back there."

"You're welcome," she says. "But be more careful next time. I don't know what you were thinking. Everyone knows Isaak is insane. It's suicide to have more than small talk with the man."

"I'm new here," he says simply.

"That explains a lot. Now if you'll excuse me I have to continue on with my shopping trip."

Rosie tries to walk away, but he stops her once again. "My name is Malcom. Could you at least allow me five seconds of your time so you can tell me yours?"

"Rosalie," she says. "People call me Rosie."

Malcom's expression of shock is one done with attempted subtlety, but Rosie still picks up on it. She decides to ignore it for now. He is probably mistaking her for someone else, but is too shy to voice that uncertainty. A moment later, the smile returns to Malcom's face.

"Rosie," he says, testing the name on his tongue. "Rosie, would you mind showing me around? I am still new here. I have only lived here in Velstand for about a month."

With mild hesitance, she gives her answer. "Uh… sure. I'd be okay with that. I guess having some company might not be so bad."

"Great!" Malcom exclaims. He sees Rosie raise a curious eyebrow, and is quick to tone down his enthusiasm. "I mean, uh... yeah. Let's go."

* * *

That day ended up being one of the most enjoyable days Malcom and Rosie spent together. Though he was two years her senior, Rosie found Malcom to be as immature and goofy as she was at times. They began spending more and more time together, and Rosie was beginning to crave being around her new friend. It was nice to finally have someone who she could have deep conversations with, as well as a new partner in crime to join her in her mischief. While Malcom was typically shy and awkward, Rosie brought out a side of him that rarely saw the light. It was a side that Malcom never knew existed. It was wonderful. It was crazy.

It was what gave him the courage to tell her he loved her.

Three months after that fateful day in the marketplace, Malcom was head over heels in love with Rosie. Thankfully, she felt the same way. Another three months of amazing, blissful romance passed before either of them knew it.

Rosie had become acquainted with Malcom's family shortly after their romantic involvement began. The family took an instant liking to her, and she would be lying if she said she didn't share the sentiment. She found that Malcom and his twin brother, Frode, were almost polar opposites from one another in both physical appearance and personality. The two were always butting heads for one reason or another. But it wasn't Rosie who kept the peace most of the time. It wasn't their parents, either. Instead, it was Frode and Malcom's seven year-old brother, Joseff. He was the one who settled most disputes between the brothers. His reasoning, though adorably simplistic in nature, was one that held little room for rebuttal. Rosie was infatuated with the boy the instant she met him. To Joseff, she ended up being the best possible playmate. Rosie was not usually one to enjoy the presence of children, but for Joseff, she made an exception.

Malcom knew without a doubt that he wanted to spend his life with this amazing girl. But patience was something he had to keep reminding himself to hold on to. He now knew without a doubt that she was the girl he rescued, and the girl he'd been obsessing over for years. But Malcom feared that if he told her right away that he was her savior, Rosie wouldn't fall for the man he is within, and rather, she would fall in love with his choice to save her. He did not want to risk that happening. So he swore his family, and even Duncan and Isolde, to keep it a secret. Rosie's adoptive parents were hesitant; keeping things from Rosie wasn't something they were easily persuaded to do. But Malcom promised them he would tell her. But the time had to be right. With much reluctance, both families agreed to act as if they were unaware of the true past Malcom and Rosie shared together.

He wanted to go on adventures with Rosie. He wanted to waltz with her beneath distant stars, to watch the sun rise over the farthest horizon possible, and to satisfy their shared wanderlust across the world. So Malcom did the only thing he could do. He asked Rosie to join him, and she agreed wholeheartedly. The challenge came when she had to gain permission from Duncan and Isolde. After much convincing, they let Rosie go. The day the two lovers were to leave, Malcom brought his parents and brother to meet Rosie at her family's home. They would leave from there.

* * *

_One Week After Making the Agreement_

_The Start of Rosie and Malcom's Grand Adventure_

"Are you absolutely sure you want me to do this?" Rosie asks Isolde as they pack. "As I have said before, I will turn Malcom away at the door if you don't. I don't want to cause distress."

"Rosie, my dear," Isolde begins. "You are the closest thing I have to a daughter. You are not my child by blood, but I love you as if you are. For all the world needs to know, you are my daughter. That won't ever change. You are seventeen, and while most would not allow their daughters to travel with their loves at that age, I have faith that your decisions will be wise. You are recklessly impulsive." Isolde gives Rosie a look, to which she responds with a guilty smile, and then continues. "But when given the chance to live by your own rules, I predict that you will have less of a desire to defy the rules already in existence. You have learned much from my teachings, and have learned to fend for yourself well enough to reassure me that you will be okay. I will worry, as a parent would for their daughter. But Malcom is a good man. He will protect you."

"As if I need protecting," Rosie scoffs. She notices Isolde's eyes turn sorrowful, and she forces her facial expression into sobriety. "Before I leave, I want to make something clear to you. Know that no matter where I go, or what I do, I will always have a home with you and Papa." Isolde's eyes widen in recognition of the vow she made so long ago, and a surge of tears dangles on the precipice of being shed. Rosie continues, her voice cracking from her own state of sadness. "No matter where I go, or what I do, you will always be my mother."

Like a dam breaking, sobs burst forth from the eyes of Rosie and Isolde; Isolde, the epitome of an ideal parent, and the reason Rosie hardly remembers her biological mother. Intense, melancholic cries of sorrow escape from the two women. Under different circumstances, Isolde might have more inhibition about the way she is crying. But she simply doesn't care. Her daughter is growing up much too fast. It would be strange if she wasn't reacting this way. A soft knock a moment or two later brings them out of their reverie.

Duncan pokes his head in the door. "Malcom and his family are going to be here soon. Their wagon is approaching quickly. Are you almost ready?"

Rosie sighs, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "As I'll ever be."

Duncan's smile is one of shameless pride. "Don't fret. It'll be okay."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Rosie tells him. "It's Malcom's tendency to put his foot in his mouth. And your status as an admiral is probably gonna make things unbelievably tense with Frode. He's just barely a recruit, and your rank is probably gonna intimidate him to the point of groveling. It's also Joseff's lack of a verbal filter. It's…"

"Hush," Isolde interjects. "It'll be fine. Stop your worrying. I'm doing enough of that for all three of us."

Duncan chuckles. "I believe the worry is shared equally amongst us, dear. But things will be as they will be. If this meeting is as much of a disaster as Rosie fears it will end up being, then there's not much we can do to stop it, is there? And if the time Rosie and Malcom spend away from home is a disaster as well, we can only hope that disaster doesn't occur grimly."

Before Isolde or Rosie can voice their responses, a knock is heard at the door. Rosie and Isolde wear matching expressions of panic, while Duncan just grins. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get down there!"

Rosie doesn't need any more encouragement. She quickly bolts out of the room; her bare feet padding in a fast-paced staccato on the wooden floors of the farmhouse. When she reaches the front door, she allows herself only three seconds to catch her breath before opening it. She is greeted by Malcom, who is standing at her doorstep in all his nervous, awkward glory.

"Hi," he says. "Uh… I'm here."

Rosie raises an eyebrow. Her facial expression, Malcom knows, is that same one she dons before making a snide remark about a person's level of intelligence, or before saying something that is drenched in sarcasm, or a combination of the two. "Thanks for telling me. I wasn't aware."

Malcom fights the urge to roll his eyes. "You're just a bright ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?"

Rosie's grin is as unrepentant as any he's ever seen. "The brightest."

"Hilarious," Malcom says dryly.

"I know."

Malcom pauses, and his face goes from unamused to bashful within milliseconds. "Can I come in?"

Deciding to drop the sarcasm, Rosie gives him a warm smile. "Yeah. Of course."

He steps through the doorway, and almost instantly is followed by a procession of his family; all chattering away. Rosie guides them into the sitting room, and notices Duncan and Isolde have yet to make an appearance. She is snapped out of her curiosity, though, when she feels a tug on the hem of her tunic.

"Rosie, why are you wearing pants?" Joseff asks, looking up at her with his big, curious eyes. "Aren't girls s'posed ta wear dresses?"

"Of course they are," Rosie answers with a laugh.

"Then why arentcha? You're a girl, right" Joseff asks, his questions so adorable they almost don't seem a little offensive.

"Last time I checked, yes I am," Rosie tells him.

"So why arentcha wearing a dress?"

"I'm gonna be honest with you, Joseff," Rosie says, kneeling down so she is eye-level with the boy. "Dresses are terribly uncomfortable. For me, at least. Plus, I'm gonna be riding a horse today. Riding a horse in a dress is not fun. So I'm wearing pants."

"And," Malcom adds, joining Rosie in her crouched position in front of his brother. "Pants make her happy."

Joseff's expression is confused as he looks at Rosie, before it breaks into a wide, gap-toothed grin. "Well, if Rosie's happy, then I'm happy. 'Cause she's the best. Right, Malcom?"

Malcom laughs hard at this. "Absolutely, little man. She is the best."

"So Rosie," Malcom's father, Gustav, says as he walks over to the three. "Where are Duncan and Isolde?"

"We're right here," Duncan says, entering the room with Isolde at his arm. "We needed to have a moment to ourselves before joining everyone down here. I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience."

"There is no inconvenience here, Duncan," Gustav tells him. "We were faring well enough with Rosie as our temporary host. But if you insist on apologizing, then I will offer my forgiveness."

Malcom's mother, Louisa, is the next to speak. "Hold your banter, gentlemen. For today is not about the friendship between two fathers. It is to witness the start of the journey being taken by their children."

"Ah, yes!" Gustav booms with a grin. "The little missus is right. Today is for no one but these two." He places his large hands on Rosie and Malcom's shoulders respectively, and brings them closer together. "Today is to celebrate a love unlike any other. It is a love the likes of which is to be told for years by those in its wake."

"I fear you may be delving into our romantic books at home a bit too much, Papa," Frode teases with a grin. Gustav removes his hand from Malcom's shoulder blade and smacks Frode in the back of the head. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"Hold your tongue, boy," Gustav reprimands. "You'll be wise to let a man indulge in the philosophy romanticism. Someday, it may earn you a wife. And to continue on with what I was saying before, today is to rejoice the beginning of a grand adventure."

"But before it starts," Louisa says. "Frode, Gustav, Joseff, and I have our own respective gifts to bestow upon you both. Gustav, would you like to present your gift first?"

"Of course," Gustav says with a grin. His expression falls into sobriety, and he reaches into his pocket. "I know it doesn't seem like much, but I've never been a materialistic man. But I wanted to give you something that holds more physical meaning than a memory."

He hands Malcom a folded piece of parchment. When Malcom opens it, he and Rosie are stunned to find it is a detailed map of earth's Eastern Hemisphere. "I thought it might help you find your way back home someday."

"Thank you, Father," Malcom says. "It means the world to us that you did this."

"The gift-giving isn't over yet, son," Gustav says. "I believe Louisa would like to go next."

"I would," she says with a smile. From the basket in her arms, she pulls a blue fleece blanket. "This blanket has been yours since you were a baby. I hope it will bring you some semblance of warmth throughout your travels."

"It will, Mother," Malcom says, embracing the woman tightly. "Thank you. So much."

"Mother?" a little voice pipes up. "Can I give them my presents now?"

"Why of course, Joseff!" Louisa says. "Go right ahead."

"Malcom, this one's for you," the boy says, holding a folded piece of paper out for his brother to take. "I drew a picture of you, Rosie, me, and Frode. We're all on a boat 'cause I know how much Rosie likes boats. And I wanted us to be on something she liked."

Malcom and Rosie crouch in front of Joseff, and Malcom unfolds the paper. Both of them examine it, and are taken aback by the cuteness and love found in the simple picture. The illustration is crudely done in some sort of colored pencil, and every face in the picture – even the boat, much to Rosie and Malcom's amusement – is smiling. Malcom wraps his arms around his little brother, and ruffles the boy's dark hair.

"Rosie, I got you something, too," Joseff says. He pulls another sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. "I drew another picture. I only drew us in this one. See? That's us fighting pirates. I've got a sword, but you're so strong you only need your hands to beat 'em!"

Rosie grins. "Thank you, Joseff. You're so sweet."

When she's done speaking, she wraps him in what could possibly be the most vice-like hug she has ever given him. She kisses his head, and then stands up with Malcom to address their families.

"Well, I suppose the time has come for us to make our exit," Malcom says. He looks seriously at Rosie. "Are you ready?"

"I was born ready." Rosie's excited grin is contagious, and Malcom can't help but match it with his own.

"Then we're off," Malcom says.

"I need to get my stuff first."

"Go get it and _then_ we'll leave."

Rosie's smirk is unrepentant as she swiftly exits the room. She comes back a moment later, a large knapsack slung over one shoulder. She places it down just as Isolde rushes to embrace her.

"Be safe, my love," she murmurs, her tears from earlier returning full force. "I hope you find what you are looking for."

"Mama," Rosie begins, an affectionate smile playing at her lips. "I've already found what I'm looking for. Malcom is my dream, and I am more than sure that I am his as well. We hold no real motivation for taking this journey other than to find our new dream together."

"I pray you succeed in finding it, then," Isolde says. "I love you, Rosie."

"I love you, too, Mama," Rosie says.

Duncan is next to approach her. "Try not to be so headstrong, okay?"

Rosie rolls her eyes, and embraces her adoptive father tightly. "I'll be as wise as I can in my decisions, Papa. I can promise you that."

"Good," Duncan says, returning the hug. "I love you so much. Return to us someday soon. Our home will always be yours to call your own."

"I love you, too, Papa," Rosie says.

After exchanging a few more tearful goodbyes, Rosie and Malcom mount their horses, and their soul searching endeavor officially begins. No obstacle this world may have is too great to overcome. For love triumphs over all.


	14. Adventures in the Hourglass: Finale

_Two Years Later_

The moon is full in the sky as a ship meanders on the still ocean. The ship, which is on its way to deliver some cargo, is being rocked ever so gently by the waves. The night is quiet and content. Most of the ship's crew are sound asleep in their bunks; dreaming of home, and the ones they left behind there. It is a sense of peace felt by every passenger onboard the vessel.

Well, almost every passenger.

The night's peace does not come right away for the ship's two stowaways. A girl holds the hand of a boy as they sneak onto the deck of the ship. The boy is tense, but he has come to familiarize himself with this feeling during the time he's spent traveling with this girl. Thankfully, they reach the deck without being spotted. The girl exhales in relief, and goes to sit at the edge of the boat, her bare feet dangling over the water below. The boy takes a seat next to her, and they lie back beside one another.

"You are something else, Rosie," the boy says with a grin.

"I know, Malcom," Rosie tells him. "You've said it, like, a thousand times."

"I won't ever stop saying it." Malcom's grin is unrepentant.

Rosie smacks his arm. "You're such a wuss."

"I know," Malcom says, imitating Rosie's comment from earlier.

She smirks, but it doesn't take long for her expression to turn serious. With a sigh, Rosie turns her gaze to the ocean. _It looks like it goes on forever_, Rosie thinks, _as if no matter where you are, while you're at sea, home will always be out of reach._ Her thoughts travel to her brother. _Oh, Marcus. If only my travels had taken me to where you are. I miss you so._

"What's wrong?" Malcom asks, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Nothing's wrong," Rosie tells him. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I know you." Malcom says it like it is the most obvious answer in the world. "And there's something on your mind. Something unpleasant."

Rosie sighs, giving him a sad smile. "You do know me. Way too well, I'm afraid."

"It's a gift," Malcom says. He takes her hand in his own. "Now what are you thinking about?"

"My brother," Rosie says wistfully. "I got separated from him during our escape from the fire. I don't even know if he's alive or dead. I've spent nine years of my life wondering what became of him. He was… He _is_ my big brother. My role model. My guide. My Marcus. I would give the world to see him again."

Malcom pulls her into his embrace and kisses her head. "I know you would. And from what you've told me, he sounds like an amazing man. But what made your thoughts suddenly turn to your brother?"

"Well, through all this travel and sightseeing, in the back of my mind I had hoped that maybe I would catch a glimpse of where he is. Whether it's by word of mouth, or physically seeing him," Rosie admits. "Don't think that I did this with you just for the chance to see my brother. Because I didn't. I do love you. More than anything. It was just something I'd secretly hoped would be an added bonus to our adventure together."

"I don't doubt your love, Rosie," Malcom tells her. "It's the one thing in this life I know to be true. That's why there is something I need to tell you."

"What is it?" she asks him.

"Rosie, I've known you a lot longer than you think," Malcom begins. "We met in the marketplace a little over two years ago. But that was not our first meeting."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"The night of the fire, you were carried onto the ship of Admiral Duncan of the Velstand Royal Navy. You were unconscious at the time, so I doubt you remember this. But right before you were handed off to the admiral, you were kissed and told to stay strong by one of the boys who rescued you."

"How do you…?"

He interrupts her. "I was the boy. I was the shepherd boy who held you in my arms and carried you to safety. I felt a bond with you the second I laid eyes on you. It was a feeling unlike any I've ever experienced in my life. It was the closest thing to love at first sight that a naïve preteen like me could encounter.

"Years passed by, and the same people who wanted your family dead confronted my parents, brothers, and I. They got word of how we helped the only known survivor of the disaster get to safety, and they wanted to know where we took you and who you were with. We refused to tell them. They threatened to kill all of us unless we gave them the information they wanted. So my family fled. We had no idea that Velstand was where Duncan, Isolde, and essentially you, were living. It was both a shock and a relief that I'd finally found you when I did."

"Malcom…" Rosie's voice is barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought that if I told you too soon, you would love me only because of what I did to save you," Malcom's voice is shaky with emotion. "I needed to know that you would love me for who I was regardless of the past we share together. Duncan and my father were actually good friends in their childhood, which is how we thought to bring you to him specifically. I managed to get our families to keep it from you until I could find the right time to confess it myself."

"But why? Why tonight?" Rosie asks. "Why did you think that now was the right time?"

"Because I meant what I said about not doubting your love," Malcom tells her. "I can see now that your love for me is true. I've always loved you, Rosie. Since I first saw you, I've wanted to be yours. As a twelve year-old boy, I saw something special in you. I never stopped thinking about you. And now that you feel the same way, I feel a sense of happiness I've never known to be possible. Every day I spend with you, Rosie, is a day I am brought to life again and again. There is a favor I must ask of you, though."

Rosie turns to him, raising a dubious eyebrow. "After that emotional conversation, I'm curious to see what kind of favor you've got in mind."

Malcom moves to a cross-legged sitting position on the deck of the ship, and pulls something out of the pocket of his trousers. "Tell me, do you think this would fit you?"

"Malcom!" Rosie exclaims, looking at the beautiful diamond ring he is holding. "What are you…?"

"Marry me?" he asks, grinning like the nervous buffoon he is.

"This is how you ask me?" Rosie asks almost hysterically. "You tell me you've been secretly in love with me for nine years when we've only been in physical contact with one another for the past two and a half?"

"Uh… yes?"

"Oh for… Yes, Malcom. Yes, I will marry you!" Rosie exclaims.

She rushes into his waiting embrace and brings him to the wooden floor of the deck. Malcom grins stupidly at her, and tears run down her face from her absolute joy. She gives Malcom a forceful kiss so unexpectedly that it takes him a little time to process what is happening. Once he does, however, he closes his eyes, and he revels in the passion that Rosie is expressing through her kiss. It is the kind of passion he could only associate with Rosie; and it's what shows him how much of life he was missing out on before he met her.

"The ship we were on was headed to Velstand to begin with, and it arrived there that next day. Then, a few weeks later, I heard about your induction into the Arendellian Royal Council. I knew I had to try and find you. Malcom was more than willing to let me go, and I even offered to let him join me. But he declined my invitation. He said it was something I needed to do on my own. So here we are," Rosie finishes.

The group is speechless. But it is Marcus who is the first to recover. "Wow. Your story almost seems… well… happy."

"I'll admit I could have suffered a worse fate. My life was pleasant, despite lacking you in it," Rosie says. "But with the way you just addressed my story, I'm starting to think that perhaps your life after that night was anything but."

Marcus sighs. "No. It was not. But a deal is a deal. So I will tell you."

He begins telling his story, and by the time he gets done, Rosie is in tears. "I never knew... All this time I've been living a life of freedom and excitement and you've been living one of isolation and grief. I am so sorry, Marcus…"

"How could you have known?" he asks her, tears of his own forming in his eyes. "You shouldn't be apologizing. What happened was horrible. I can't tell you how happy I am that your life thereafter was much less grim than mine."

"But you were suffering that whole time…"

"We're here now. Together. That's all that matters."

"But…"

"Nothing can change the past. That's something I've learned here." He smiles at his friends. "All you can do is try to make things better now. And we are. Slowly, but surely, our relationship will heal and mend itself. We will never be as we were those nine years ago. But we can be something even better because we're stronger now. I've found you. You've found me. That's all there is to it."

"I love you, Marcus."

"I love you too, Rosie."

"Group hugs! Group hugs all around!" Anna exclaims.

Elsa, Kristoff, and Anna all rush towards Marcus and Rosie. Arms wrap around waists and shoulders, tears fall on teary cheeks, and relieved laughs are shared by all. It is the sort of harmony that Rosie and Marcus love more than they would ever let on, but it is blissful nonetheless.

* * *

**Okay, I promised an explanation, and here it is.**

**I've got about six days until the end of the school year (my school district had a record-breaking fourteen weather-related school cancellations, so I don't get out until Friday, June 13th), and my teachers are emphasizing how horrible exams are likely going to be. So I've been studying nonstop. I also hit a bit of a snag in ideas, even with LP009's most gracious agreement to aid me in forming them. I've been horribly stressed out, as well. But then I saw how many of you have followed/favorited/reviewed this story, and I got inspired to write more. This story officially has more reviews, favorites, and subscribers than any of my other stories. That makes me immensely happy and I can't thank you enough. I've never felt more confident in my abilities than I've been feeling with this story and with you guys.**

**Just so you know, this story may be slowing down in updates, but don't give up on it. I am starting to write a Frozen modern AU fanfic, (with my two favorite pairings: ElsaXOC, and KristoffXAnna), so look for that on soon. I'll give you guys a little hint about the OC who is Elsa's love interest in this new story: this OC is named Theo, and he is an Italian American. I hope you will check it out once I come up with a name for it and post the first chapter.**

**Ta ta for now!**

**-Symphonic Madness**


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